The Monster World: New Beginnings
by Purple Duskywing
Summary: Sequel to The Human World: An Adventure. With their banishments over, Randall and his friends face re-adjusting to the Monster World. But since the death of one of their own, it will not be easy starting new lives. While helping his friends through tough times, Randall must also deal with his own troubles, a guilty conscience, and the terrifying images coming back to haunt him.
1. Prologue

**Woo hoo! It's time for a sequel! I've had this in mind for ages and ages and it's high time I wrote it.**

 **This will be a friendship/family/drama-type story, all about Randall and his gang of formerly-banished friends trying to re-integrate into the Monster World. There are still lots of loose ends to tie up, what with the death of Suzie, Becca's depression, and Randall still trying to redeem himself with mixed results.**

 **To any new readers, I highly suggest reading my first Monsters story, since this sequel will contain a TON of references to it, as well as flashbacks. To old readers, I recommend re-reading the last few chapters of HW: An Adventure, just to refresh your memory of where we left off. :) This will not be as long as the first, but I'll put just as much effort into it. I hope you enjoy it!**

The Monster World: New Beginnings

Prologue

Randall was lounging up in the branches of his tree with worried and aggravated thoughts running through his head.

Had they really been back for almost a month, already? It sure didn't feel like it. Perhaps this was all some realistic, prolonged dream that was going on. But it wasn't. Not for the first time since returning, Randall bit the inside of his cheek to test if the dream would end—nope. Still here. He stretched out a little before reclining back on the branch, trying to sort out his thoughts.

The tree he was in was not a moss-draped tree like the ones back in the swamps, nor one of the colossal pines of a forest. No. He was in his own backyard. A hedge fenced off the surrounding neighbors, but the tree was even taller, offering a place to climb up to when he wanted some time alone. The thick leaves hid him rather well to offer a bit of privacy, but he still had a good view of the sky and of the surroundings below.

It was early—the sun was only just peeking into view. Sunlight glinted off the neighbors' rooftops already, signaling a new day in Monstropolis. A spring breeze whistled and a few fire-breathing birds could be heard squawking, mixed with the distant sound of the occasional car driving by. One of the neighbors had left a kitchen window open, and the clatter of dishes and a radio broadcast drifted out into the early morning air.

These extra noises Randall wasn't used to. It certainly was strange to be hearing them again. After living in the Human World for the last two years, routine sounds in Monstopolis were weird after all this time. The extra noise wasn't helping his state of mind, though…he wanted some peace and quiet so as able to figure out how he would handle today's upcoming events. There was a lot on his mind at the moment.

The sunrise was calming, at least. All yellow, gold, and pink, mixed with the still-dark-blue sky as the night came to its end. Back in the swamps, Randall often watched sunrises like this. When he had been banished and off on his own, it was usually overlooking a swamp. But during the time with his fellow banished outcasts, the scene would often change. The sunrise could be on a beach, in the countryside, or over the forest treetops. They had been overlooking places in France and Spain, or on a ship in the middle of the ocean. One sunrise Randall had watched from the cliffs of Iceland…he didn't want to think about that particular time, though, and tried to steer his mind away from it.

It had only been a month since returning, and he and his fellow banished monsters were trying to figure out where to go from here. Personally, Randall thought they were all off to a rough start—well, except for him. For the last few weeks, he had been working on the maintenance crew at Monsters, Inc., and finding time for a few secret projects on the side. Not long ago, he had constructed a door that led out to Iceland— _No! Don't think about that._

The thought of that place made him want to jump out of the tree. It was just _one_ of the things on his mind; some bothered him more than others.

One thing was the fact that he was still not on good terms with his family. The initial reunions with them had gone well, but ever since returning, Randall hadn't seen very much of his father. Dr. Zachariah Boggs was a hard-working astrophysicist who was a man of high expectations and extremely difficult to please. Randall had been out of his father's life for so long that it was hard to know how to earn his respect and approval. Returning to the factory was perhaps an odd choice; that's where this whole mess had started. But his father hadn't said anything about it so far…Not yet, anyway.

Luckily Samuel was here to try and help. His elder brother was an annoying brainiac, but a good listener and giver of advice. (Randall suspected it had something to do with his degree in psychology.) So sometimes it was a convenience, having him around. The brothers often argued, but living in the same house was sort of _forcing_ them to get along, one day at a time. With Sam acting as a bridge between Randall and their father, hopefully things would mend within the Boggs' clan. But it would take a lot of effort.

Randall crossed his arms and looked over at the greenish-grey walls of the house. _Having to share the place…humph…not what I imagined would happen when I came back._

It was a small, one-story house with an upstairs loft that served as his nephew's bedroom. He was just above eye-level with the window, where the four-year-old was undoubtedly still sleeping.

This was a thing Randall had mixed feelings about. During his absence, Sam and Rex had moved in, just like that! While banished, he hadn't enjoyed the time of solitude, before running into other banished monsters. But now that they were all back, to suddenly have to share with estranged family? It wasn't an ideal situation. But he supposed he didn't have a choice. At least he had a roof over his head, and was learning to get along with his brother and nephew—well, more like learning to _tolerate_ them.

"Things could be worse, I guess." He shrugged, trying not to complain. The others had their own sets of problems to deal with, too. Some of them had it far worse than he did.

Bernard Brennen had it the easiest out of all of them. Reunited with family—some he hadn't even known about—and with a now-profitable fishing business, the Brennen household was vast and luxurious. Bernard had the good fortunes practically handed to him on a silver platter. Most monsters would enjoy all of that. But Bernard was a humble, down-to-earth man, and he found the changes to be very great and overwhelming. There was still a lot to adjust to. His new life was sure to be good, but he couldn't very well enjoy it with rest of the gang so despondent. The death of one of their own was still looming over them all…

Naomi Jackson was thrilled to be back home. She was a little older then Randall, and he remembered her from college days, but she still acted like a teenager to some extent. The experience in the Human World had given her a greater appreciation for the little things in life. Now living with her mother, she was at a loss as to what to do now that she was back in Monstropolis. Lately she had been filling her days with socializing, shopping and other useless pastimes, much to her friends' chagrin. Always the complainer, and used to getting her own way, she was still the same old Naomi—though maybe not as stuck on herself as before. Over the last few months, she had become closer friends with Becca, trying to filling the sisterly void that Becca missed.

Randall climbed a little higher, wanting to lounge on a different branch to stare at the clouds. His thoughts became very sad all of a sudden. _Becca…_ her only family was dead and he was the one to blame.

Rebecca McKeen had taken up residence at Bernard's place for now, in one of the guest suites of the massive house. The last few weeks had been hard for her; she was back in the Monster World, while her sister was dead and buried back in the Human World. Not long ago, she had refused to come out of her room for days and just poured over old photographs without the heart to argue, boss around, or make some sarcastic remark at her friends. Seeing her like this was a bit disturbing. The older monster Bernard was kind, and had always treated the girls like his own daughters; he felt like the closest thing she had to a parent. But it just wasn't the same. The others were growing more worried about her by the day. They all longed to see her back to her old self: a tough, no-nonsense woman who rarely let anyone see her soft side.

Her depression was only growing…Randall felt obligated to make things right, but yet again, wasn't sure how. If only he had _never_ come up with that _stupid_ plan of stowing away on a ship! The accident would never have happened, and all of them would have made it home!

He still felt responsible for Suzanne McKeen's death. Despite his efforts to save her, she had still slipped away; died in her sleep from her injuries without a word in the cliffs of Iceland. She had been too young to go. Always so cheerful and optimistic that it simply wasn't fair for her life to end so soon. The guilt was eating him alive, like it had been ever since that terrible day. Bernard and Naomi kept saying the same thing: it wasn't his fault. But he knew better. The series of events leading up to the accident was, anyway.

Becca had taken the news very hard. She hadn't forgiven him at first. With the death of her only family, Randall didn't blame her. The two of them patched things up in the end—he suspected that watching over Suzie during her final hours was what gave Becca reassurance: that her sister had passed away peacefully and not alone.

But Suzie was still gone.

She had died months ago, within a long chain of events that had led up to all banishments everywhere being lifted…but she would never be coming home.

Randall sat upright on the branch, tired of all this reminiscence. The others kept on saying that it wasn't his fault…But he didn't really believe them. Deep down, he was positive Becca still blamed him. How could she not? Knowing that he was forgiven did not make his guilt go away. Suzie's death, as well as everyone's reaction to it, had had a profound effect on him.

The whole experience in the Human World had…

Being out there had taught him about learning from his past mistakes; the difference between right and wrong. He had learned there was more to life than meets the eye and his fellow banished monsters had helped him to realize that. Randall had not admitted it to anyone, but he thought of them as friends for life. During his time with the group of survivors, they had taught him about watching each other's backs, and about being there for each other. Yet he still had much to learn. He was still notoriously short-fused and was forever impatient.(But he was working on that.) Already Bernard, Naomi and Becca saw him as a friend, so that was a start. They all had new lives to begin, and he vowed to help them through it no matter what.

He tried to focus on something less stressful, for today was bound to be rough. All of these things—Suzie's death, his family troubles, and his friends' individual challenges—were not what was making him extra anxious this morning. The reason he was still perched up in his backyard tree was this: the simple thought of going to work today.

For this was bound to be the day he would run into the two monsters who had thrown him into the Human World in the first place.

The sudden banishment had been illegal, but in a way had been a good thing to happen. He never would have met Bernard, Naomi, and the McKeen sisters otherwise. Meeting them had truly been the start of a new life for which he was grateful.

But the thought of seeing James P. Sullivan and Mike Wazowski again filled him with dread. "What a fun meeting that will be." He mumbled. "What am I going to say when they see me? 'Hey there, remember me? Wanna know what I've been up to?' Like that'll go over well…"

Although he deserved the punishment for what he had done in the past, he still harbored a lot of resentment towards those two. For weeks, the newspapers had been full of re-telling of the banished monsters' adventures. None of their names had been printed—only fake initials—but Randall knew the big blue buffoon and his green beach-ball sidekick would piece together the story. "They may be idiots, but they're not completely stupid."

The reason he hadn't yet bumped into them thus far was because many of the factory employees took their spring/summer vacation times around this time of the year. Today was the day Sullivan and Wazowski were due to arrive back at work. Randall considered phoning in sick just to avoid them. "Maybe if I just went about my day like they weren't even there…?"

An odd fear came over him: once they realized that he had indeed returned, they might toss him through another door…"Wait a second; all banishments are lifted! They couldn't do that even if they wanted to!...Could they?...Maybe they won't even recognize me..."

His scales still retained some of their deep-purple tan, and there were many scars all over his body that would never fade. Permanent reminders of what he had been through…It was true he was looking a bit different now. All that time hunting and fighting alligators had given him some lean muscle and many bite-marks. A particularly massive patch of scar tissue on his abdomen was courtesy of the gunshot wound that had nearly killed him. The long mark on his face came from getting hit by that shovel on day one. Sometimes he wore his glasses to work; if he did so today, maybe Sullivan and Wazowski really wouldn't recognize him. "It's worth a shot..."

Randall decided to stay up in the tree a bit longer. A few more minutes of relaxing in the sunrise couldn't hurt. There was so much going on in his life right now and he needed to figure things out, one at a time. Back in the Human World, Suzie had saved his life while he was recovering from that gunshot wound. It was then when he had resolved to try and redeem himself; prove that anyone could change. He had always been very determined. After all, not many monsters were given a second chance.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It looked like his nephew had just woken up. The drapes in the loft window were pushed aside and a single orange frond appeared, since Rex was too short to see out. Randall watched with amusement as Rex jumped a few times, his head popping into view like a jack-in-the-box. The kid then disappeared into the room to find a chair to climb on.

Randall himself blended into a leafy-green pattern to better hide in the tree. This was becoming a morning ritual: he'd stay camouflaged up here, while Rex tried to spot him. (Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't.) In the Human World, Randall had always slept in trees; he'd gotten so used to it that the habit had yet to be broken. He huddled between the leafy branches, as still as possible on the bark to match the foliage perfectly.

About a minute later, Rex pointed out, "I see you! Right there, near the top!"

As per the game's end, Randall reverted to purple and waved to his nephew half-heartedly. He wasn't much in the mood for games. Rex didn't seem to notice, though, and promptly left the window to head downstairs. "The things I do to keep that kid entertained." Randall mumbled. If Rex was up, then Samuel was sure to be as well. The morning routine had begun, which meant the day was off to a fair start.

"Ugh…I wish I could just _skip_ today altogether." Randall let out a frustrated groan and began the descent from the tree. Time to face the inevitable…weather he wanted to or not.

 **Yes, I know having Randall meet Sully and Mike once again is pretty typical for Randall fics, but this story will not be focusing on that whatsoever. This story is all about Randall, his family, and the rest of the gang. There will be surprises galore in this add-on to my first Monsters story, and I hope you tag along for the tale! :)**


	2. Worries

**Hi there! Sorry for the long delay, but the first chapter is always the hardest. It started off as one giant chapter, but it was getting so long that I decided to cut it in half.**

 **Since this is just the setup of the story, there's nothing too exciting yet. Just a bit of exposition, and intros to Randall's family, while focusing on Randall and Becca's individual troubles. With Becca still coming to terms with the death of Suzie, Randall isn't sure how to help her, and a lot is on his mind already. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter One: Worries

New routines often took some getting used to, and Randall was still having trouble with this one. Every time he woke up, the first things coming to mind were heading out to gather water, and forage something edible for breakfast. Maybe even hunt down some game if he was extra hungry. But then he remembered there was no need to do that anymore. The whole concept of an easy, comfortable start to the day was weird. _Shame, though. I almost_ liked _the chance to hunt down an alligator._

He stretched his limbs upon reaching the ground before heading over to the kitchen's side door. The smell of burned toast wafted outside even before opening it. Randall rolled his eyes; Samuel never could cook. Everyday something went wrong whenever it was his turn. _How is it possible for one monster to be so bad at the simplest things?_

He went in unnoticed by his brother, who was too busy trying to salvage what he could. Randall watched for a few minutes before speaking up. "I don't think there's much point in saving it. Rex is probably so used to it by now he won't even care."

"Har, har." Sam started a fresh batch to try again. "Do you want some? It's not as bad as usual…" He held up a smoking, burnt piece of toast.

"Nah. Nothing for me," Randall took a seat on the hard wooden windowseat, where a few books were stacked. "I'm going to Bernard's later for breakfast, anyway." There was still some time to kill until then, but not much. He needed to come up with a plan within the next few hours! On the outside, he looked calm, but his inner anxiousness was really building up. A few minutes of distraction was what he needed. He cracked open one of the books, but didn't really read it. Sam's incompetence as a chef was a huge commotion. As another batch of burned toast became ready, the smell of it filling the room, Randall found his mind beginning to wander again.

 _How_ was he going to get through the day? _I can't let those two find me…I'd sooner eat Sam's cooking. Wait a second…_ Sam was full of good advice, even if he _was_ an annoying know-it-all. Maybe he'd have a suggestion on what to do.

Like many monster siblings, the Boggs brothers were physically similar. They each had the same lizard-like body, multiple limbs, and both possessed the same camouflaging abilities. They also had the same bright green eyes. But Sam only had two arms instead of Randall's four, the fronds on his head were very long, and his scales were a pewter-grey shade with splashes of purple and blue running down his back. Sam's left arm also had an abstract sleeve tattoo which Randall hadn't yet discovered the origins of.

Rex hadn't yet come into the room. If an important conversation was to be brought up, Randall had best get it over with now, for Rex was a pestering sort who was bound to ask questions. But striking up a conversation with his brother wasn't easy with the absolute mess Sam was making of the kitchen. With his cooking attempts—now he was tackling a pan of fried green-spotted eggs—the smell, crumbs, and overall clutter was really getting on Randall's nerves. Not to mention Rex's toys had been left around in strange places, like on the kitchen table and the windowseat where Randall was sitting.

All of these minor annoyances only added to Randall's worry. "Hey, just 'cause you guys took over my house doesn't mean you can make a mess out of it."

"Well I don't spend a lot of time here," was Sam's excuse, said in a casual way. "Remember, I've got two jobs that keep me busy, Randall. And Rex is a handful—he's a stubborn little chaos-creator with a mind of his own. Kind of like you."

Randall frowned, deadpanned.

"By the way, you didn't sleep out in the tree again, did you?" When Randall nodded, Sam then asked, "Will you stop doing that, please? It's starting to give Rex ideas. He keeps asking me if he'll ever be allowed to sleep in trees!"

"No way. It's more comfortable up there, and I'm not about to change my ways."

"But what about when it rains? Or when winter comes? I know that's not for a while, but could you at least break the habit by then?"

Randall frowned in silence. This wasn't the first time Sam had brought up the tree issue. Personally, he didn't see what the big deal was. Just set some ground rules for Rex and that was it! Suddenly, he didn't feel like asking Sam for advice. Bernard was just as full of wisdom, with a respected opinion to boot.

Sam sighed. "Well, Rex is going to need a close eye kept on him, then. I have a feeling he's going to sneak out to try and climb that tree sometime soon. I just don't want him copying any of the habits you've picked up."

"What habits?"

"Like your habit of sitting in weird places; like right now." Sam nodded at the hard windowseat. "It's like you enjoy sitting in the most uncomfortable spots possible. And there's also that reflex whenever you hear things that sound even remotely like an alligator—"

"OK, OK, I get it! But some habits are with me forever. The 'sleeping in trees' thing stays. I just got so used to it, that's all."

The arguing would have gone on had Rex not scampered into the room just then. The small four-year-old was an eight-limbed monster with bright orange scales, and a single frond on his head. He had inherited the camouflaging gene that ran in the family, but hadn't yet learned to control it. Evidently he had been practicing elsewhere, for the upper half of him was covered in a woodgrain pattern.

"Help! I tried to match the wall in the living room, but I got stuck halfway!" Rex panicked, hurrying over to Sam. "I can't change back!"

"Don't worry," Sam picked him up and set him on the counter. "Just don't think about it for a while and it will fade on its own."

 _Great. Now I can't talk to Sam even if I wanted to. Not with the little nuisance getting in the way._ Randall had little tolerance for his nephew. The kid was a ball of energy and too clever for his own good. Worst of all, he was curious and talkative, always asking questions. Some of them Randall found awkward—like the time when Rex had asked him how he'd gotten all his scars _. Just ignore it all and say as little as possible._ Randall vowed.

Still in the windowseat, he returned to the book. It was the only distraction he had to ignore the goings-on in the kitchen. Sam gave Rex a quick lesson with camouflaging before dishing up some burned toast and not-so-burned green-spotted eggs. Rex, now back to orange, happily scampered over to the table, hopped onto a seat, and waited to be served. This was when he noticed what his uncle was reading. "Whoa, is that book in another language? I can't read the title."

Sam set down two plates of food and joined them. "Don't go," he said when Randall made a move to leave. "So that's why those are there. How goes the studying?"

"It's not 'studying.' It's just reading." Randall insisted. "I just felt like learning something new."

"That's called studying. Since when do you know Spanish? I've never heard you speak a word of it. Another thing you picked up in the Human World, I bet."

"Cool!" Rex's attention was captured. "Where did you learn it, Uncle Randy?"

"Please don't call me that. And I can't speak it perfectly—French is easier. And I'm not in the mood to chat! I've got a big day to figure out…" Without wanting a response, Randall got up and marched out the side door, back into the yard.

"Is he OK?" Rex asked, puzzled. He talked through a mouthful of food, spraying crumbs. "Did I say something bad?"

"No, you didn't. Maybe he's got feeling very well this morning. Let's just leave him alone for a while, OK?...Don't talk with your mouth full. It makes a mess."

Outside in the still, quiet early-morning air, Randall tried to think. He paced around the grass for a bit, finally stopping by the tree to lean against the trunk. He needed a plan to avoid unwanted attention at work and wasn't sure what to do. "Of course, I could just stay invisible all day, but that's far too much work. And I can't be checking over my shoulder constantly…"

The sun had risen a little higher. More gold was in the light, now, and the sky was less dark, getting bluer every moment. Randall thought of retreating back up the tree to admire at the new view. Watching the sky always helped him relax. That would also prevent Sam and Rex from glancing out the window at him. The two were still at the kitchen table, eating while casting worried looks at him. Rex seemed to be chatting away at full speed, getting crumbs everywhere, while Sam scolded.

"I had a feeling you'd be out here again," Came a sudden female voice. It was filled with high-pitched cheerfulness. "What's wrong this time?"

"Nothing," Randall crossed every arm as Naomi walked in nonchalantly through the gate. "Just my brother berating me and my nephew getting underfoot."

"Or you're just in an extra-bad mood this morning. I think it's that." Naomi teased. The tall, three-eyed woman was once a member of the Python Nu Kappa sorority, long ago during college days. But those days were long gone. The time of banishment had complicated her old sorority friendships, and now Naomi hardly ever saw them. Her lavender hair and skin looked picture-perfect as always. She was one of those monsters who enjoyed fashion, and was dressed simply in a skirt and T-shirt today. But no footwear; her clawed feet were out. Having been forced to survive in the wilderness, Naomi had (eventually) gotten used to wearing no shoes. "So, what's on your mind?" she went on. This wasn't the first time she'd caught Randall talking to himself. "It's a beautiful morning. A bad start to the day would be a real shame. I, for one, have big plans. Wanna hear them?"

"Not right now. C'mon, let's get going." Randall began steering her back towards the gate.

"But I just got here! I wanted to say 'hi' to your brother. Seems a bit rude to just leave the moment I arrive." She spotted Sam and Rex through the kitchen window and waved.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we get to Bernard's." Randall insisted.

The gang often met to have social meals together. Whenever this happened, Naomi would walk to the Boggs' house—it wasn't too far from where she lived—and then she and Randall would catch a bus to the Brennen household. It was a good routine for everybody. They continually found ways to meet every day and mealtimes were always convenient.

Long shadows were creeping into existence, thanks to the risen sun. Walking down the sidewalk, Naomi stopped to observe Randall's behavior. "Boy, you really _are_ in a bad mood." She noticed his frown, and the way he glared straight ahead as he marched along. She knew him well enough to know these were signs that meant something very serious was on his mind. "Any chance you want to tell me what's bugging you?"

"Nope." He replied. "Sorry, Naomi, but you're not the best advice-giver. Besides," Randall replied. "Once we're all in the same room, I won't have to explain twice."

"Hm. Those are good points." She shrugged and hurried to catch up.

…

The Brennens' house was so enormous that Randall's home could be considered a shed next to it. The large place had big, spacious rooms, huge windows, high ceilings, staircases with lots of steps, new and modern furniture, and a vast outdoor property. There was even a swimming pool in the backyard. All of the riches were thanks to the family's successful fishing business. Bernard had started small; many years ago long before his banishment. His son had then taken over in his absence, putting great effort into rebuilding their business reputation. All he had done had certainly paid off.

When Randall and Naomi arrived, they bypassed the front door in favor of going around the side of the house. A path led from the front gate all the way to the back.

"I still can't get over the size of this place," Randall craned his neck up at the red-painted walls. "Only five monsters live here."

"I think it's great! A whole mansion-sized home with everything you could possibly want? Imagine the parties I could throw at this place…" Naomi marveled.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Randall sighed. "To suddenly come from how we were living to this? It's a bit much. All this place needs is a moat and drawbridge, and it's all set."

The backyard had a patio with the pool right next to the house. The rest of the yard was on a bit of a slope, covered in gardens and trees. It sort of resembled a private park. This was where they found Bernard peacefully taking a stroll through the grass while waiting for their arrival. The older monster was quite an intimidating sight with his red, gorilla-like frame and huge angler-fish teeth sticking out from a fearsome jaw. But his eyes were so kind and good; with his wise ways, and rational thinking, he had been the perfect leader of the band of survivors. The others all looked to him in times of trouble, so in a way, he still was the leader of their gang.

"Ah, there you are! Come on up to the house; Becca is still inside." Bernard huffed and puffed up the slope on short legs, smoothing down the sweaty crest of colorful feathers growing down his back.

"How is she?" asked Naomi.

"Well, she has good days and bad ones. I'm not sure what today will be like; she hasn't even come out of her room, yet."

"That's pretty thoughtless. She knows we're here, right?" Since Becca's room overlooked the yard, Naomi looked up at the third floor windows.

"I wouldn't call up there. You know on bad days she never answers. And on good days, she tends to yell insults."

Randall chuckled. It was better when Becca acted more like her normal self, starting an argument just for the fun of it. For the last few weeks, her behavior had been very erratic. They all knew she was trying to ward off bouts of depression. It hadn't been very long since learning of Suzie's death…no one could say if Becca's mood would improve or worsen. There were days when she wanted nothing more than to talk about her sister and remember the good times. But other days, she was so forlorn that it was a struggle just to come out of her room.

Randall and Naomi followed Bernard across the patio and into the house. The kitchen had been occupied recently—the rest of Bernard's family had been in here, preparing their own breakfast. No one else was in sight at the moment, so they were probably somewhere else in the house. With the sheer size of it, though, they could be anywhere.

"It's still better to eat outside," Bernard nodded at all the hard, uncomfortable seats. "Far better out there then sitting in this place. Not that I don't like it, mind you, but it's a big change." He had already taken the liberty of preparing some breakfast: waffles and bowls of oatmeal, with purple syrup and a platter of fruits for everyone to add to their own taste. Their food was more monstrous these days: all the fruit was different colors, some with slimy textures, odd shapes, others smelled strange, and some had many colorful spots. But to the monsters, it was all tasting like home. It hadn't taken long to get used to eating real food once again. Human foods had sustained them, but it wasn't quite the same.

"Mm, this looks great! Can we eat under the big tree again? That's my favorite spot." Said Naomi, helping to gather up the bowls. "The house is completely hidden from there, so it feels just like a real picnic."

"Not until Becca decides to join us," warned Bernard. "Remember, it's important she does. She had a rough evening last night, going over more photographs. A pleasant breakfast outside will cheer her up, just like old times in the campsite. Hopefully."

The three of them all nodded quietly.

This would be yet another meal without Suzie, a fact that none of them liked. Suzie always lightened up mealtimes by reciting those corny jokes out of her trusty jokebook, or else give her thoughts on the latest novel she had read. In the days shortly after her death, it had been hard. Her absence was more noticeable during meals. Randall would remain quiet, while Bernard and Naomi filled the void with attempted small talk. But Becca still had a long way to go.

"No more delaying, then," Bernard snapped back to reality. "Who's going to go fetch her this time?" He gathered up the rest of the tray with a raised eyebrow.

Randall and Naomi each glanced at one another. Neither was very willing, unsure of what Becca would say.

"Well? We can't start without her." Bernard encouraged kindly. "She's doing her best to cope; she's a tough one. But we've got to make sure she doesn't fall into depression; you both know that. Greif is complicated stuff."

Remembering his resolution to change, and the vow to help Becca through this rough time, Randall sighed. "Fine…" Without another word, he left the kitchen. Suzie being gone was his fault, anyway, and fixing the problem was an impossibility. But he had to do _something_ to try and make it better. Coaxing Becca down to have breakfast with them was a start.

 _That is, if I can find her. Where is that staircase, again?_ He wandered, trying not to get lost in the big house.

…

Becca lived in a guest suite overlooking the backyard. It was like a small apartment, complete with some living room space, her own bathroom, and even a small balcony. It was nice, painted in a calming blue, and Becca was glad to be living with friends. She didn't plan on living with the Brennens forever, and she was grateful to have a place to stay. But ever since returning to the Monster World, she hadn't felt quite right.

Being here without her sister was strange. And she didn't like it.

This just wasn't fair! Here she was, free to return to a normal life, while her sister was _dead_. She often punched pillows in anger. Today was more melancholy, though. Flipping through old photographs had truly put a damper on her mood. All she wanted to do right now was sit in the squashy armchair, lost in memories.

Scattered around her suite were personal belongings that the authorities had released. Now that her banishment was over, all of the McKeen family heirlooms, pictures, and photo albums were once again hers. There were stacks and stacks of them. Even old, well-read novels of Suzie's, making the room very cluttered.

Curled up in the armchair by the window, the sunlight reflected off the gold-speckled scales of her face. The beautiful day was barely noticed. She was busy skimming through a smaller album, and she twirled one of her fin-tipped feelers around with a frown. So much was happening right now; so many changes, with more changes bound to happen soon. And Suzie wouldn't be here for any of it…

The door to the room was ajar, and she heard it swing open further. "So, you're still hiding up here every morning, huh?"

"What do you want?" Becca said in a neutral tone. She barely looked up from the album.

Randall leaned in the doorframe, dumbfounded by her response. Becca didn't have her usual no-nonsense attitude these days. Sometimes she even acted polite. It was down-right weird. "It's breakfast time, just so you know. Bernard's cooking isn't that inedible, and he went to a lot of trouble making it. Are you coming down?"

"Maybe…I dunno."

"Is this a good day or a bad day?" he asked that question not for the first time.

She thought about it for a moment. "Somewhere in-between, I guess. Just go out to the yard without me. Maybe I'll have breakfast later."

This wasn't working out as Randall hoped. Were it not for him, Suzie would still be alive, and Becca wouldn't be in this state. Her sadness was only growing the longer she lived without her. He had to do something to help. But what?

He wandered into the room and looked over her shoulder to see what it was that had her so captivated. He squinted, not really surprised at seeing the photos. Becca and Suzie had not been the closest of sisters in the time he knew them, but they seemed to be very much so when they were younger. A lot of the pictures had both of them together. Whether it be swimming, playing outside, or just hanging out in a living room, they always looked happy.

The sisters were also physically similar: each was bipedal with a long body that ended in an eels' tail. Both were semi-aquatic with fins and long, fin-tufted feelers on her head. Golden speckles were scattered on their faces and limbs, shining against forest-green scales on Becca, and royal-blue scales on Suzie.

An album had been shown once to the group of friends. Randall had noticed the sisters' photos being taken separately the older they grew. He made a guess it had to do with the fact that Becca was ten years older than Suzie. Being so much older, she had had to take on a parental role eventually.

For a long while, he remained standing, looking over Becca's shoulder as she flipped silently through the photos. He kept quiet, not sure how to talk her into coming out of the room. She was just as stubborn as him and bound to put up a fight. So he went for a strategic approach; he always was good at manipulating. "How old are you two in this one?" he pointed at a photograph of the sisters together in a home kitchen.

"Suzie's eight in this," Becca looked at her own younger, teenage self. "This was just after Mom—well, we were on our own by then. It wasn't easy…Not only did I have to take care of her at home, I also had to work, _and_ go to college all at once."

"Yeah, that does sound tough," said Randall, not very good at sounding reassuring. _Here Becca is, confessing her troubles, and_ that's _what you come up with? Surely you can do better than that._ "But things got better, didn't they? All it takes is a bit of time."

"Oh, they got better, sure. But look where it landed us!" Becca suddenly snapped the album shut and stood to pace around the room. "After all I did—college, finding a great job, and raising Suzie—I got both of us banished! Then she dies and now I'm back here with even less then when I left! Bernard's got it made, if you ask me. Naomi is acting like a happy-go-lucky teenager, and you, Randall, have a whole reputation to rebuild. I doubt anyone at that factory will forgive you for that scream extractor incident. Where the hell are we all supposed to go from here?"

"How about the backyard?" he pointed a thumb out the window, to where the balcony overlooked the park-like space. "Naomi and Bernard are still waiting, you know."

"I'm not hungry. How can I possibly eat right now?" She set on the edge of her bed, gripping the edge anxiously. Her stomach could be heard growling, despite her words. "I know it's only been a few weeks since we returned. It's early, still, but I just don't see how things could get any better…"

Randall remained standing by the armchair, allowing Becca to rant. What she needed was a distraction. Something that would take her mind off of Suzie…an idea then came to him. _The factory…of course!_ He interrupted Becca's half-hearted ranting. "I think I have an idea that may help. You might even like it."

Becca put on a familiar, bossy glare. "Out with it, then."

"Only if you come down and join us for breakfast."

"I said I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure? That sound of a growling stomach came from you, not me."

She went on frowning. "Tell me now, or I'll punch you in the face."

In answer to that, Randall disappeared into thin air and moved to the other side of the room. His mischievous grin was invisible, and Becca groaned with exasperation. He was tempted to continue arguing, but didn't think it wise. Instead, he went on to try and wrap it up. "Sitting in this room all day won't get you anywhere, you know. You don't get to hear me out until—"

"Alright, already! I'm coming! Where are you?" Becca approached the spot where his voice was coming from and waved her arms around to try and find him. "I still need to punch something."

Hearing that was a good sign; it meant she was acting like her old self. Though it also confirmed Randall's suspicions: that deep down, Becca still blamed him for the death of her sister. Had he been in the same situation, he'd want to punch something, too. Recovering from her loss would be no easy feat. _But I'll make this right again…how, I'm not sure. I'll just wing it as I go._

 **Up next: the next phase of Randall's plan, plus a run-in with 2 old rivals. (Story will not be focusing on that, just to be clear. This is all about our gang of former outcasts.) There will be some hints in the next chapter for the cliffhangers to come! See you later! :)**

 **If you feel like leaving a review, please word it politely! :) Thanks for reading!**


	3. Incognito

**A thousand apologies for the super-long wait. October is an extremely busy month for me, so there wasn't much time to write. So here is a long (ahem, long-awaited!) chapter for you! We're picking up right where we left off. This part is all about Randall's efforts to avoid certain old rivals as he goes about his day, trying to figure out how to help Becca. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Two: Incognito

"At last, she emerges!" Naomi applauded when Randall and Becca came down the grassy slope.

"I was starting to worry," said Bernard. "Come; I made waffles and oatmeal. So, how are you today, Becca?"

The cheerful greetings did not faze her. She stormed over, barely looking at them. "You all have the gall to ask me that? I only came out for breakfast. Not small talk." She snapped.

"Becca…" Bernard gently scolded. "We're all just worried about you. I understand what you're going through, but there's no need to be rude."

"Yeah, all you do these days is stay inside, looking at photos." Naomi added. "Why not go out and live a little?"

Becca only rolled her eyes. She didn't have any more willpower to argue back.

The others knew better then to push further. Bernard began passing around the bowls of oatmeal. "Let's not be downers, everybody. Here; it's still warm and there's plenty more up at the house for seconds. Nothing compared to Randall's cooking, but I hope you enjoy it."

Their meal was simple, but tasty and good nonetheless. Whenever the gang had social meals together, it was always outside like this. It felt like the times back in their campsite in the Human World: quiet and peaceful. This way, they could talk without interruptions. Bernard's family already knew not to bother the gang, but Randall's hadn't clued in yet. (Whenever meals were held at the Boggs' house, Rex would constantly butt in with questions.)

Under the shade in the trees, Randall made a beeline for a low-hanging branch to eat while perched there. Bernard sat on another tree's protruding roots, and Naomi and Becca found some grassy spots to sit on. It felt so natural, sitting in a circle like this.

Becca's stomach could be heard growling. It was obvious she was hungry, but she just pushed her oatmeal around thoughtfully. The others all noticed. When they gave her raised-eyebrow looks of questioning, she groaned. "OK, I'm sorry! Sorry for delaying breakfast, I mean. But it's different for the rest of you. You all didn't know Suzie as long as I did, so can you blame me for wanting to sit around and mope?"

Bernard put a hand on her shoulder soothingly. He spoke to her with much comfort. "We all miss her too, Becca. But it will be OK."

She said not a word. She only picked up a waffle to nibble on and didn't even bother drizzling it with syrup.

Seeing her like this was terrible. Randall felt another pang of guilt arising. It was an emotion he was becoming very familiar with by now. To prevent it from being obvious, he ate another bite of food, focusing on that instead of Becca masking her sadness. She was a lot like him in that aspect: never one to show defeat and never letting anyone see her soft side.

Randall wasn't sure when was the appropriate moment to announce his idea on how to help her. Now that a somber air had risen, he decided to wait until someone broke the ice. He certainly wasn't going to be the one.

Naomi was naturally the first to try and start up conversation. "Hey, Bernard, I'm just curious about something. How come you don't like living in such a palace of a house? My mother and I would adore having a giant home like this."

"Oh, it's not that I don't like and appreciate it. I like it just fine," he explained, gazing up in the direction of the house. The rooftop could just be spotted over the trees. "It's just…not my taste, shall we say? When you get banished for over a decade, one develops an appreciation for the simple things. You should have seen the terrible time I had trying to find my granddaughter yesterday. One round of hide-and-seek took a solid hour, at least!"

"Ha! That's no surprise. Where are she and your folks now?"

"In the house, somewhere, probably getting ready to leave. Nicholas, Lucy and I are heading out to the fishing grounds later, but they're walking Penny to daycare, first." The whole of the Brennen clan enjoyed lending a hand in the family business. It was completely normal for all of them to go out on the water on most days.

"That reminds me," said Naomi. "I wanted to tell you all sooner: I'm finally going out for some job-hunting today! Yes, don't look so shocked. I'm through being classified as 'unbanished.' Mother sort of talked me into it. She said I shouldn't be out shopping with her money and 'being frivolous' as she put it."

"So you're finally going back to work, then." said Randall. "How did your mother talk you into that? Did she cut you off?"

Naomi's angry red-glowing eyes was the answer. " _Maybe_. Let's not go there. I haven't put much thought into what would happen to us when we returned…"

This conversation jogged Becca's memory and she looked up at Randall, sitting on his branch. Didn't he have some sort of idea he wanted to share? He was always full of crazy stunts, even back in the Human World. "Hey, Genius, " she began. "Now that you've dragged me out here, what's this brilliant suggestion of yours? And it had better not be anything stupid, like talking to your shrink brother for therapy."

"No, nothing like that. Sam's busy enough as it is. What I was thinking of was this;" He braced himself for her reaction. There was no predicting what her temper would do these days. "Why don't I ask around at the factory to see if there are any positions available for you?"

Becca made no response. Her expression barely changed. It was like she hadn't heard, and if she had, didn't even care.

"That sounds like a good idea," Naomi commented. "Why not? It would give you something to do, Becca. Personally, I don't really want to go back to being a Scarer. All the trouble I landed in before sort of ruined the friendships with my sorority sisters. Too many bad memories, and all…Do you guys know none of them want anything to do with me anymore? How heartless can they be?"

For several moments more, Becca just sat there, eating a few bites of waffle and digesting Randall's idea. After what seemed like ages, she finally answered. "I dunno, Genius…What good would that do? Working in a factory got me banished and my sister killed. What if something bad happens all over again?"

"It won't happen again. Not since the banishment law was obliterated. In case you've all forgotten, not one monster ever has to face such a punishment again. That's all thanks to us." Randall continued eating, now helping himself to a green-polka-dotted fruit. He chewed as he went on explaining. "As for what good it will do, have you considered the fact that it may make you feel better?"

"He's got a point." Bernard agreed.

Becca poked at her oatmeal again. She still wasn't so sure. "So you're saying I should just stroll right back into a regular day job as if nothing ever happened? Great plan, guys."

"No, listen, Becca. You misunderstand. What you need is a _distraction_." Bernard said wisely. "If you continue hanging around the house, you'll hardly feel any better. Trust me. I, too, have experienced loss, so I know what you are going through. It was a long time ago…but do you know what helped tremendously? I kept going, and living my life. A thing as simple as working again will help to distract you from your grief."

"I am _not_ grieving. I just…miss her." Becca insisted.

The support Randall was receiving for the plan was encouraging. He tried to read Becca's expression to see what she thought. She was still looking doubtful, and now a tad angry to boot. _Guess this won't be easy..._ He thought, drumming his fingers on the branch.

"Well…who did you lose?" she eventually asked Bernard.

"My wife. It's been almost twenty-five years, now…Nick was very little when it happened, and not a day goes by when I don't miss her. In the beginning, it was beyond tough. But it got better day by day. I think a bit of distraction is a step in the right direction for you."

Becca became neutral again, still unsure. "First my parents, and then my sister…now no one is left. I bet none of you have ever had that happen." She argued.

What she said was true. They all couldn't possibly imagine what that was like. Being the last survivor of your entire family would lead many monsters into depression. _But not her._ Randall thought to himself. _At least, I hope not._ "So, how 'bout it, then?" he asked. "Do you still want me to ask around at the factory?"

She barely acknowledged. She only sat there in the grass, fin-tipped feelers drooping, and eating her breakfast numbly. The others didn't say anything. They just waited for her response. Her shoulders rose up and down slowly as if taking deep, but silent breaths. This was a quiet habit done when she felt the sadness creeping up. Yet her face remained tired and emotionless. A few more bites of oatmeal later, she swallowed and gave an answer. "Sure. That's fine, Randall. Just don't make me take a job that's too demeaning."

He nodded. Remembering the day she had told him her backstory, he gave a harmless suggestion. "You used to be a Scare Coach, right?"

"Yeah." Becca said quietly.

Now Randall knew things were really bad. She had never given such a short answer to anything before. Suzie had gone on and on about Becca's love for her past career, bossing monsters around and getting paid for it.

Naomi fully agreed with the plan. She kept her voice as cheerful as possible. "Good thing they still kept Scare Floors when they started making that Laugh energy.—Oh! Randall, who do you have to talk to in order to find out about positions?"

"Not sure. I got hired by one of the managers, so I'll start there, I guess. Or maybe the receptionist could tell me…ugh…looks like I may end up facing them, after all…" He remembered the terrible worry that had been plaguing him since the moment he woke up. The breakfast with his friends had pushed it out of his head for a while, but now the problem came rushing back all at once.

"Problem?" Bernard could always tell when something was up. Before Randall said another word, the older monster said, "Is it about those two monsters who tossed you through a door all that time ago?"

"Um…yeah, how did you…?"

"Samuel called earlier, the moment you left the house."

"Humph. What a busy-body he is." Randall now had another reason to be annoyed with his brother. Despite never mentioning his troubles, Sam figured them out anyway. How did he do it? Mind-reading? "Never mind about Sam; I'll deal with him later. You know what's going on, then?"

"Sort of. Sam made an educated guess as to why you were in such a bad mood this morning. Why don't you give us the details?" The others both perked up, interested in what was going on. Well, Naomi was attentive; Becca just turned her head to listen quietly.

So Randall confessed and told. He explained how much he dreaded walking through the factory doors today, and possibly having to face the two rivals whom he hated so much. It had been a long time since seeing them; they were the ones responsible for his unexpected (not to mention illegal) banishment. "…and they are due back at the factory today, now that all the vacation times are coming to an end." He finished up. "When I accepted the maintenance job, I knew I'd have to deal with them again, but now that it's actually happening, I'd sooner die." _Whoops. Shouldn't have used that word…_ But Becca didn't even seem to care.

Naomi found all this very interesting. "Hm…I can see why that would make you afraid—"

"Who said anything about being afraid? I'd sooner _disappear_ then run into them, but they're going to find me, no matter what. If not today, then tomorrow." Randall pointed out. He was more than ready to ask Bernard for some much-needed advice. "What would you do? I've got enough problems dealing with my brother and his kid. Plus, my father has barely spoken to me since we returned; not sure why. And a lot of mechanical failures are keeping me so busy at work that I can't even think straight!"

"With all that, seeing these two monsters sounds like the least of your troubles." said Bernard. He paused to stuff three syrup-drenched waffles into his mouth at once. One piece got skewered on an angler-fish tooth and stayed there. The others all found this funny, even Becca who almost smiled. He swallowed and went on. "Nobody likes facing old foes, Randall. But you have to talk to them sooner or later. If you're inquiring about positions today, you just may run into them at some point."

"Or you could just forget the whole thing." Becca added. "Then you won't have anything to worry about and could avoid those guys indefinitely."

"I'd don a disguise!" said Naomi excitedly. "I bet none of us look exactly the same as when we were banished. Even when I ran into Carrie that first day we returned, she didn't recognize me right away. With that camouflaging trick of yours, a disguise would totally work."

All of these suggestions on what to do got Randall thinking. He had finished eating and remained on the branch to ponder. The disguise idea sounded plausible, but Naomi's suggestions never worked out for the better. Plus, he doubted it would work; he was simply too well-known at Monsters, Inc.

There was a lot to do today and it was stressing him out to no end. What to do first? Which problem should he tackle? He took a deep, calming breath of fresh air to relax. _One day at a time…just deal with one problem at a time…_ Bernard and Naomi were now discussing what their own plans for the morning were, all the while coaxing Becca to speak up. She only joined in the talk like a robot would. Barely a sound came from her, and she wasn't acting like herself one bit. When the topic changed to her superb shooting skills, (she always was a master marksman with her shotgun back in the Human World) Becca didn't even feel like boasting.

 _This is not good_. Randall observed. _The sooner I can fix this, the better. I'm going to that factory today, rivals or not._

There was still time before he had to leave for work. Until then, he was free to enjoy his friends' company at their laid-back breakfast. But as the minutes ticked by, his inner turmoil only grew. If his old foes really did end up finding him today, there was no telling what they would do.

…

Since Naomi was heading in the same direction, she tagged along for the walk downtown from Bernard's. Her job-searching quest would be taking place in more or less the same area. She was in an extra-cheerful mood, and wouldn't cease her chattering. All of the relentless small talk was quite annoying and did not help to distract Randall from how anxious he was getting.

A queasy feeling rose in his stomach with every step. It felt like the nerves one would get before an important dreaded test or a big stage performance. A part of him wanted to take Becca's advice and bolt straight back home…but there was no point doing that. He couldn't put this off; this was something he _had_ to do, weather he wanted to or not.

As they strolled down the street, Naomi went on talking with vigor. "Maybe I'll apply there, too," she considered. "Not for a Scaring position, mind you. I think I've had enough of the Human World for a lifetime. So maybe something else; do I just walk right up to the receptionist desk to ask, Randall?...Randall?"

"Huh?" he snapped back to reality.

"Boy, you really are afraid, aren't you? Have you given the disguise idea more thought? I still say it's a brilliant plan!"

Randall was growing tired of her chatter. She was so talkative whenever she was happy, and it was driving him crazy! He wasn't much in the mood for talking, anyway.

The streets of Monstropolis were alive with the morning rush hour. A lot of cars were on the roads; now that the energy crisis was over, monsters were taking advantage of the freedom to drive without worry. Some cars were massive in size, with many sets of tires. Others were very small to accommodate shorter drivers. Many vehicles had accessories like fang-tooth hood ornaments or decorative spikes on their wheels. On either side of the busy street, shops were opening up for business. Randall and Naomi passed several monsters on the sidewalk: an insectoid man buzzing past in a hurry, a red fire-breathing monster reading a newspaper, and a fish-like woman ushering her gaggle of children on their way to the bus stop.

All around were sights of familiarity. Randall gazed around with a strange appreciation for it. It was good to be walking this old route to the factory again. He had done it countless times in the past. However, these days it had a different feel to it. He wasn't sure if it was the underlying guilt over Suzie, or if he was simply still adjusting to walking down the street again.

When Randall and Naomi approached a small open-air grocery store, a tentacle-limbed employee bid them good morning as he opened up shop. "It sure is nice to be back," Naomi sighed as she waved the market monster goodbye. "No more hiding to save our skins and we can finally be out in public. This feels like the start of a brand new chapter."

"Easy for you to say. You don't have an entire reputation to rebuild." Randall marched quicker down the sidewalk. "For weeks, the whole factory has been giving me weird looks. I don't think they all know I was banished, but they still know about what happened before…I'm never going to be fully trusted there again. Waternoose was convicted of being the leader for the scream extractor plot, but that doesn't mean I'm forgiven by everybody. _I'm_ the one who built the darn thing!"

"As Suzie would say: just try to look on the bright side," Naomi advised. "At least no angry mobs have run you out of town."

"Not yet…"

"Well, if you happen to run into the two guys you mentioned, what are you going to do? If one of them is CEO, and the other is a top Laugher, they'll have authority over you."

Randall was fully aware of that. He couldn't be banished again, but getting kicked out of the factory was a possibility. One he didn't like.

"Maybe you could disguise yourself as your brother?"

Frowning, he disagreed. "That'll never work. Think about the big picture! Sam has been working as a part-time counsellor there. Everyone knows who he is. Besides," Randall shifted his scales to match the pewter grey shade of his brother's. "We're not exactly alike. See? He's at his other job today, but everyone will still know it's me in an instant."

"It was a thought. Maybe a different disguise, then?" Naomi pressed on. "Go as a complete stranger. With your glasses, and a hat or something, too. If James Sullivan and that Mike guy haven't seen you since the day they banished you—"

"They'll know it's me. I'm sure of it…" Randall insisted, turning back to purple. Only it was a dull, sickly purple to emphasize his mood.

They continued on their journey down the street. In the distance, the factory of Monsters, Inc. could be glimpsed towering high in the sky. The sight added to Randall's stress. He tried to focus on other surroundings. With the steady traffic of cars, pedestrians, and the general hustle and bustle of downtown, there was plenty to look at. But nothing helped. As he walked ever closer to the factory, step by step, he considered backing out entirely. _Just don't go! Forget going to work at all! It'll be far easier that way…_ Butanother voice in his head fought back hard. _No. This is a way to help Becca, like you said you would. And you've got to prove you can be better then what you were, right?_ Randall sighed. Maybe that was his conscience talking.

Naomi was staring at the distant factory thoughtfully. "You know, I remember James Sullivan and Mike from college. What a laugh riot they were! After that year they were at the school, I wasn't surprised to hear they got expelled. But I guess they and that loser fraternity of theirs proved themselves in the end. How on earth did James get to be the head of Monsters, Inc., anyway?"

"I have no idea." Randall grumbled. He had been working there for a few weeks, and still hadn't figured it out.

Upon reaching the next intersection, Naomi adjusted her sparkly pink purse, preparing to turn the corner down another block. "Well, I'm off to go job-hunting. There are plenty of places around here that are looking for help. Try not to worry too much about today; you're probably just over-thinking it. It'll be fine! Just stay hidden and no one will be the wiser."

He frowned again, far from enthusiastic.

"Boy, it sure is big up close…" she gazed again at the looming white-painted walls with marvel. "Since you're asking about positions there, anyway, do you think you could check to see if anything else—"

"So you want me to do all the work for you, then? Why don't you just ask them yourself?" Randall crossed his arms.

"That's a great idea! I'll pop by later; never seen the inside of that place before." She waved goodbye and went on her way down the block. "Thanks for the suggestion. Good luck on your day!"

He watched her go, rooted to the spot, dumbfounded. "Great. If she ends up working there, too, we'll never hear the end of it." He said crossly. He and Naomi may be friends, but her prissy, teenage-like ways were exhausting after a while.

Now it was time to focus on the task at hand. He crossed the street when the light changed from 'Don't Stalk' to 'Stalk.' All the while, he stared at the factory with such fixation that he nearly walked into a lamppost. The great walls were looking more and more like a fortress the closer he got. He had no desire to go in there…but his conscience wouldn't allow him to turn back now. Not when he was so close.

…

Several pairs of glass double doors served as the entrance into the main foyer. Randall approached with caution…It was getting close to nine o' clock, but he didn't expect it to clear out when the whistle blew. The large, domed room was the central hub of the factory, always busy with monsters trafficking everywhere on their daily routines. He was still outside, watching as a few stragglers came running up towards the entrance for fear of being late. One monster bashed him in the face as he swung the door open frantically. Randall was tempted to shout a few choice words at the guy, but held his tongue. Now more than ever, he couldn't risk drawing attention to himself.

Before heading inside, he peered through the glass in search of unwanted faces. He scanned the entire foyer with squinted eyes carefully. Although it was a bit blurred, there was no sign of his rivals. "So far, so good…" This was the best time to head in. One was less likely to be spotted in the crowd. The knots in his stomach became very painful as he placed a hand on the door handle. Every scale threatened to remain this dull, sickly purple—an inadvertent reaction to his extreme unease.

Another monster came hurrying up the sidewalk. Randall had not yet gone inside, and the stranger gave him a quizzical look, wondering why he was still out here, staring through the glass as if not wanting to be seen.

Randall gave the monster the evil-eye glare. It scared the stranger enough to send him rushing inside even faster.

"Can't delay it any longer, I guess," Randall spoke to himself. He took a long, steady exhale and walked straight into the foyer with no more hesitation.

The busy entrance-hall of the factory was a huge, spacious room with corridors leading off to all other areas of the building. The halls led to offices, Scare Floors, training and simulation rooms, the daycare, cafeteria, and the recent Laugh Floor additions. (Randall frequently scoffed at that last one.) The foyer floor was nicely waxed and polished. Patches of sunlight filtered in through the dome-ceiling windows. Monsters kept going to and fro at a steady pace, ready to begin their work day. In the center of the room was the reception desk ringing loudly with phones. This was a normal scene first thing in the morning. The phones would ring off the hook for a good while with incoming calls, and the lone receptionist answered them with expertise.

She was always so busy this time in the morning that she never noticed who was coming through the front doors. In fact, Randall doubted she was even aware that he had been working here. The receptionist, Celia Mae, was a tall, pink monster with tentacles for hands and feet, one blue eye, and live snakes for hair. These snakes all had minds of their own, often acting like five extra sets of eyes. Sometimes that made it harder to avoid detection, so Randall always gave the desk an extremely wide berth, going invisible whenever he had to walk by.

For the past few weeks, he had done a perfect job of avoiding her. He had done this because he knew the snake-haired receptionist was Wazowski's girlfriend, and also friends with Sullivan. If she found out he had returned from banishment, it was very likely she would inform others.

But that one worry was pointless now. She had full access to a computer, and would be able to tell him if any new job positions had opened up. That was Randall's next step in trying to help Becca.

Randall pulled at his fronds in frustration. _The minute I leave, she'll go and tell her idiot boyfriend of my being here. Then what do I do?_ Suddenly, he had second thoughts about all this.

His mind raced quickly as he began walking towards the desk. He did not disappear, meaning Celia's snake-hair would catch notice of him any second…she herself wasn't looking this way, and was busy answering phone calls, directing them where they needed to go. This made Randall stop in his tracks; she wouldn't have a few minutes to talk for a while yet. Plus, another thought just occurred to him: if Wazowski and Sullivan were back from their vacation times, they may stop by the desk to greet her. In fact, it was bound to happen—maybe any second!

In mild panic, Randall vanished into thin air. The receptionist's snake-hair only caught sight of him at the very last moment, and weren't too sure what they had seen. But they shrugged it off, anyway. Randall crept silently past the desk, trying to form a new plan. This place was a prime spot for Wazowski and Sullivan to find him, which he was determined to avoid happening for as long as possible. Just because he couldn't avoid the meeting, didn't mean he couldn't try to delay it as long as possible. _Maybe Naomi's disguise idea is worth trying, after all._

…

Although he was well-known because of his previous career, Randall had never been very popular. A few monsters said a casual 'hello' as he made his way to the mens locker room, but most just gave him some space. Randall was relieved few had pieced together the real reason why had been gone for two years. The newspapers were still full of re-telling of the gang of survivors, but had used fake initials instead of their names. This led others to believe Randall had merely taken an extended leave of absence or maybe been in jail. At least, that was what Randall hoped. He still had to be careful not to let the truth get out.

 _I bet they're all suspicious._ He thought as he went past a few monsters in the locker room. They had all gone quiet and ceased their chatter as he walked by. So Randall gave them the old evil-eye glare. The trio of co-workers immediately put their heads together to huddle in whispers. _Figures._ Randall frowned, slightly worried. _I show up out of the blue and they're bound to wonder what happened. It's only a matter of time until they figure it out._ The collection of scars and his new, lean muscle were dead giveaways.

He passed by many rows of lockers before reaching his own. There was still a few minutes before the whistle blew to signal the start of the work day. It was time to come up with a disguise for the day; or at least until someone discovered him. Fetching a pair of glasses from his locker, he was doubtful Naomi's idea would work. But it was worth a shot. Perhaps there was a way to find out what those three co-workers really thought…

There was no one near the row of mirrors above the sinks; it was the only spot the practice, so he'd have to be quick. The glasses were new, given to him by Samuel: a pair of rectangular, black frames which he only wore at work these days. The reflection in the mirror instantly became clearer when he put them on. For the next minute or so, Randall experimented with disguises. He made some limbs invisible, and altered his scales to try and be inconspicuous. It wasn't easy…he settled on a deep, cranberry red scale pattern and camouflaged every scar. He made four of his eight limbs invisible, and allowed his tail to drag on the ground. He used the hardhat from his locker to hide his fronds completely. Being on the maintenance crew, sometimes he wore a company tool vest. With it on, along with the rest of the getup, the result was pretty convincing.

 _Not bad, I suppose…_ he thought. Even he didn't recognize the reflection in the mirror at first glance. But he saw his own reflection often enough, and Bernard, Naomi and Becca would see through it right away. But they saw him every day. So it was hard to predict how others in the factory would react.

Randall was satisfied enough. The disguise required some concentration, so he would keep it up until after he had spoken to the receptionist.

He peeked around to be sure nobody had seen what he was up to. _The last thing I need is stupid questions._

The same trio of strangers hadn't budged; they spoke in whispers too quiet to hear, chatting on the benches. Randall checked his reflection one last time, adjusting the stupid blue vest and hardhat. _Boy, do I look like an idiot right now…_ He began walking casually. It was time to put this to the test…

The red-scaled, four-limbed lizard went right past the three co-workers, going back the way he had come. None of them were Scarers; not scary-looking or intimidating in any way. But if he could trick them mere minutes since they last saw him, it would be a success.

Randall kept a straight face—this wasn't going to work! How could this nerdy disguise save his skin?

But the three monsters nodded in a friendly way and smiled in greeting as he approached. Randall slowed, unsure what to do. Did they suspect? He did a bit of acting and nodded back.

"Hey there! You're maintenance, right?" one of them asked, pointing at Randall's tool vest. The stranger was a big, pink fellow with beady eyes and overly large feet.

Now Randall stopped. No one had ever welcomed him like this. He kept up the acting and nodded in reply. "Yeah…" He spoke in a lower voice with a French accent; all that language studying came in handy for some things.

The other two—a multi-eyed yellow monster and a dinosaur-like green man—were glancing around nervously, as if expecting someone to pop out of nowhere. When no one did, they relaxed and also said hello with the same friendliness. Randall didn't like it; having co-workers acting nicely towards him was weird. But they didn't seem to recognize him.

"Well, since you're new, we'd better warn you," the pink monster said.

"Warn me of what?" said Randall.

"One of your fellow team members is someone to watch out for," the dinosaur-like man explained. "Which ain't easy, as you'll soon learn."

Randall fought back a scowl and pretended to play naïve. "What do you mean?"

"You've seen the stories in the papers, right? About the banishment law being lifted?" the pink monster waved a newspaper. "We're not completely sure, but we think Boggs is one of the guys they let back in. And he's on the maintenance crew, now."

"Really? Why should that concern me?" Randall asked, trying not to sound impatient and wanting to hear their opinions. _C'mon, spit it out! I don't have all morning!_

The trio all looked tense, as if other ears could be listening. The multi-eyed one answered, "There was a plot to kidnap human kids a while ago. The old boss either bribed or convinced Randall Boggs to build some sort of torture machine-thing to extract scream energy. It sounded pretty serious. I don't know all the details, but whatever happened got Boggs banished."

"Yeah," the pink monster added, scratching his chin. "They guy disappears without a trace right after Waternoose was arrested, and comes back out of nowhere all scarred like that? It can't be a coincidence. The timing is just too perfect."

The dinosaur monster nodded in agreement and looked over an article in the newspaper. "You're right. I doubt they would use the banishment survivors' real names. They'd never blend back into society otherwise. One of these criminals has got to be Boggs they're talking about." He then said to the disguised Randall. "After all that, who knows what sort of trouble he'll stir up again? So just watch yourself and be careful around him."

Randall's suspicions were confirmed. It filled him with anger, but he managed to keep his temper under control. His former reputation really had made his return more obvious. "That's—good to know. Um…thanks for the advice."

The trio of strangers was none the wiser as the very monster they were so wary of walked away.

Randall double-checked to make sure his disguise hadn't faltered. It was tricky concentrating on partial-invisibility, different scales, and forcing his tail to drag on the floor. The brief conversation with the trio had made it all the more difficult to focus.

As he left the locker room incognito, right away he noticed others' reception of him changed. No one gave him a wide berth, nor shirked away. Some oven said 'good morning' and smiled. Randall was surprised. So far, he hadn't caused any trouble in the last few weeks, keeping to himself and focusing on his job. Maybe his change in attitude wasn't as obvious as he had imagined. Now as an apparent stranger, everyone was treating him with more warmth. _Guess that means there's still a lot of work to do…_

The whistle then blew loudly. The conversation in the locker room had taken longer than intended. He cursed himself for not hurrying _. Darn it! Now I have to come back even later!_ The receptionist Celia Mae was in sight over at her desk, not quite as busy with the phone calls now. He needed to speak to her before the day was over, all while keeping his identity hidden from her.

Randall groaned in frustration. _Well, at least I've got all day…but I wish I could just get this over with!_

He left the foyer again to begin the trek to the maintenance room; there were some things to grab before starting the shift. Plus, he could ditch the disguise for now. But with it, he could talk to fellow monsters and find out what they really thought about the return of Randall Boggs. After hearing those three in the locker room, he was curious to hear other attitudes.

Sullivan and Wazowski were probably forming their own hated thoughts about him…The disguise was his only hope of avoiding them. _Let's hope it works_. He thought, turning down another hallway. _Those two have known me for ages. They could see right through it in an instant if I'm unlucky enough._

A flicker of strange movement caught his attention, like a monster's long tail. Out of the corner of his eye, there was a flash of dark blue turning the corner up ahead. The sight was brief, but it made Randall froze just the same. Then he remembered to keep acting normal today. He kept going…he took a good look around the otherwise barren corridor when he turned the corner as well—only to find nobody. "Great," he calmed and reverted to his normal, purple and scarred self. "I'm so stressed out I'm seeing things!"

…

Days on the lowly maintenance crew consisted of making minor repairs around the factory, doing safety checks and some cleaning. Comparing it to a position as a top Scarer, Randall considered the job a bit demeaning; after all, he had been demoted all the way down to _this_. But he was surprised at actually enjoying it. The days were always busy.

Lately, a number of glitches in the door station systems had been occurring, so he was tasked with tinkering around at the machines to fix them. The other maintenance team members he tolerated well enough, but frequently lost patience with when they dawdled. They were all very slow in their work, so he preferred to work alone; things got done faster when there were no other opinions to deal with.

As the shift went on, he didn't bother with the disguise as much. Yet he remained vigilant and checked every room before entering. A few monsters noticed that he was acting peculiar, but did not ask questions. All knew of Randall's short-fused temper.

Much to his relief, he made it through the entire morning without spotting his rivals. Some weeks ago, he had learned that Wazowski had been made a Laugher. The green cyclops was apparently one of the funniest monsters in the factory, and could fill up those giant laugh canisters with ease. Randall's routine maintenance tasks for the morning hadn't led him onto a Laugh Floor. It was a huge sigh of relief; a Laugh Floor was where Wazowski was likely to be.

The last chore of the morning was to run a safety sweep of Scare Floor B. He glanced at the clock before heading over the threshold. There were only five minutes until the lunch whistle… _I can do the sweep after. This is the only chance I may get to speak to the receptionist._

Looking out at the Scare Floor, he watched the various Scarers going through the doors. All around, the walls echoed with the cries, wails and yells of human children. What a relief that Scare Floors hadn't been completely replaced with the dumb Laugh ones. Randall sneered at the idea of every monster being reduced to such extremes. He hoped he would never have to go into a human kid's room again. After all that had happened, he felt sure Wazowski would want to banish him all over again.

He put the fear aside and remembered what his primary goal of the day was.

…

The red-scaled, four-limbed disguise was put on again before heading out into the light of the foyer. _OK, this'll be a cinch…just go in, ask about positions for Becca, and then hightail out of there!_ There weren't too many monsters walking around the domed room, and no sign of Sullivan or Wazowski yet. It was now or never…

He marched determinedly up toward the desk.

When he reached it—glasses, hardhat and all—Celia was directing another phone call. Randall had had little interaction with the receptionist in the past, so it was very likely he could fool her. But he was still nervous when she turned to look at him.

"Hello, there!" Celia Mae said with friendliness. She noticed the blue tool vest. "Busy day on the fix-it team? I don't think I've seen you around here." The snakes on her head all stared with smiles, acting like five extra little monsters…it was downright bizarre.

"Uh, I'm—pretty new," Randall spoke in the lower French-accented voice, praying she wouldn't recognize him.

"Oh, wonderful! I've seen quite a few new faces lately. A lot of new monsters are being hired. So how do you like Monsters, Inc. so far?"

Her sickly-charming personality Randall didn't like. He had no desire to strike up a conversation, but he had a ruse to upkeep. So he kept on acting like a brand-new employee who was still learning the ropes. "It's been alright, so far. A bit strange since these Laugh Floors were added, though." He resisted the urge to say what he truly thought about them.

Celia giggled. "Most have taken to them remarkably well. You know, they were all the idea of the new CEO, Mr. Sullivan. But since not all monsters are funny, just like not all monsters are scary, he and my own Googley-Bear decided to—well, it's quite a long story!" she laughed again.

 _I knew that dumb idea was all theirs_. Randall was appalled at such an idea. The idea of _funny_ monsters was ludicrous!

"Anyway, what can I help you with?" Celia asked. This new guy couldn't have come up to reception for no reason.

Randall explained, "I want to inquire about a few positions on behalf of a friend of mine. Since I was hired so quickly, she's been thinking about applying, too—" _Well, that's not exactly true, but Becca will hardly do it herself._ "—so I thought I would ask around here to see what's available. She's been a bit depressed lately, and I thought working again would help take her mind off things." He didn't elaborate too much. Becca would kill him otherwise.

"Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Let me check the personnel database and see what spots are still free…" She rolled her wheeled chair to the computer. After a few clicks, she asked. "Anything in particular?"

 _The_ _personnel database—uh oh. Will she see my name on there?_ Randall was about to answer the question when the phone rang again.

"Hold that thought," Celia used a headset to answer it. "Monsters, Inc., how may I help you?"

So Randall waited impatiently. Talk about bad timing! A few more employees began filtering through the foyer on their way to lunch early. The lunch whistle had yet to sound off. Randall certainly didn't want to be stuck here in the foyer when that happened. His rivals were sure to join the crowds on their way to the cafeteria…while Celia took care of the call, he watched the hallway entrances nervously, not wanting to see familiar faces. Standing here in the open foyer felt like being a sitting duck.

Another glimpse of dark blue caught his eye again. Just like earlier, it was brief and subtle, this time moving out of sight around another corner before he could get a better look. He blinked and shook his head, leaning against the desk. _Still seeing things, I guess…_

"Sorry about that," Celia resumed the computer search. "Now, was there any specific position your friend may be interested in?"

"Uh—she didn't say, but she has had some experience as a Scare Coach in the past. If nothing like that is available, just tell me what is. Anything is bound to improve her mood."

Celia flinched a bit at the sudden brashness. Randall bit his lip; that had come out sounding a tad too much like him.

But she did not question it and turned back to the computer. A few minutes later, she gave him the exact information he needed. "A lot have been filled, but there are still a few open spots for janitors, cafeteria workers, Laughers, and both Laugh and Scare assistants. Oh! And look at this! There are some coaching positions as well, which require an audition and an interview with the CEO."

 _Great. Odds are I'll run into him no matter how hard I try to avoid it._ Randall grumbled internally. But the news was exactly what he'd hoped. Becca needed an excuse to get out of Bernard's house, or she'd never leave that room of hers. Remembering to keep acting, Randall nodded to the receptionist. "That's good to hear. I'll let her know; thanks."

"Oh, I just know she'll enjoy it here. A lot of positions hold their interviews with managers," Celia went on as Randall tried to leave. He remained where he was to appear attentive. "There are a couple of hard-to-please managers, but most are the biggest softies! And Mr. Sullivan is a very nice guy—still insists on everyone calling him 'Sulley'—so there really is nothing to worry about—" Suddenly, she jumped to her tentacle feet to gaze at someone behind Randall. "Googley-Bear!" She and her snakes broke out into wore the gushiest expressions ever.

A happy voice called back to her. "Schmoopsie-Poo!" Then a pair of running feet accompanied the call as the owner hurried over.

Randall froze. _Well that's just perfect…_ was his sarcastic inner thought. He did not make eye contact, nor turn around to face the round, one-eyed monster. All of the blood drained from his face and dread quickly filled his stomach. Fooling Celia Mae was one thing, but fooling a monster who had known him since college? That was completely different. _Now what do I do? Think fast, Randall!_

He felt the urge to disappear completely, or just walk away as fast as possible without raising suspicion. But a guilty conscience kept him rooted to the floor…like Bernard had wisely said, he would have to face his old rivals sooner or later.

Randall's mind raced a thousand miles a minute as he debated what to do. Mike Wazowski was running up to the desk at full speed…

 **Cliffhanger! Mwahaha. I'll try to get the next part up by Halloween. Until then, see you later! :)**


	4. Close Encounters

**OK, I started this chapter with the mindset of: "This won't take too long. It'll be done by Halloween!" And then it turned into an 11-page epic. Not sure how that happened. lol. Lots of things happen in this part, so I'll just let you read and enjoy! :)**

Chapter Three: Close Encounters

This was strange. Last time he had seen Wazowski was two years ago. The one-eyed cyclops had picked out a random door, egging Sullivan on as they prepared to toss him through into oblivion. Now Wazowski was running up to the desk, quite oblivious to Randall's presence.

Were it not for the disguise, Randall would have disappeared. That was his first instinct…facing old foes was just too much to deal with right now. Bernard and Naomi were probably right. Perhaps he _was_ overthinking it and worrying too much. There was enough on his plate already. He could just walk away right now!...But then again, Wazowski would learn of his return from banishment sooner or later…

Randall stepped to one side when Wazowksi reached the reception desk. The cyclops noticed him, but gave absolutely no sign of recognition. Unbelievably, the disguise seemed to be working.

The one-eyed monster had all his attention focused on the receptionist, anyway. "Oh, my Schmoopsie-Poo," he greeted her with the sappiest expression. "I've been counting the minutes until I finally laid eye on you again. The days seemed to melt into years!"

"I've missed you, too, Googley-Bear," Celia Mae leaned across the desk to give him a quick peck on the cheek. The five living snakes on her head kept on kissing, so much that Celia had to stop them with a tentacled hand. The snakes seemed to emulate whatever mood she was in, and right now, they all had sickening lovesick grins on their faces. "Three weeks is such a long time to be away. The calls and messages were wonderful, but it just isn't the same."

"I was thinking exactly the same thing," said Wazowski. "And now that I'm back, there is no need to pine over me! I will admit one thing, Schmoopsie-Poo: it sure was relaxing, having some time off. It's been ages since I've visited the family. And I certainly needed the break, what with how busy it's been around here. I like annual vacations so much they should come more than once a year."

"Oh! How was your trip? You'll have to tell me all about it later…"

Randall's nervous heartrate calmed down considerably. He seemed to have been forgotten, and the urge to disappear subsided. (That would have been a dead giveaway, anyway, what with the glasses, hardhat and all.) _Talk about luck! Time to get out of here._ There was no need to stick around. Wazowski and Celia were chatting, not paying him any more heed. Randall had gotten the information he needed; all that was left to do was report it to Becca next time he saw her.

So, ever so casually, the red-scaled, disguised lizard began to leave…it was lunchtime and he was hungry. The cafeteria should be serving something delectable at the buffet—

"Oh, wait just a moment!" Celia Mae called back. "I forgot something!"

Randall tried not to appear uneasy—his pulse began quickening _. Just stay calm and act normal. They still don't know you…everything's good._ Wazowski was looking right at him. A tiny inner voice panicked _. He's going to recognize you…any moment now, and then you're done for. Banishment all over again!_

But Wazowski still appeared relaxed and happy. There was no sign of him seeing through the disguise. Even as Randall took the few steps back to the desk, he still made no sign of knowing him whatsoever.

"Yes?" Randall said to Celia, remembering to use the lower, French-accented voice.

"This is probably good for you to know: If your friend is interested in applying for a coaching position, it's best to do so as soon as possible. With Mr. Sullivan back from holidays, those positions will be filled quickly. He's quite eager to hire some new coaches."

"That's right; the sooner, the better!" Wazowski agreed in an annoyingly chipper way. "You're another one of the new recruits, I'm guessing? The place has looked a lot more crowded since I walked through the doors today! Hi there; Mike Wazowski, one of the top Laughers here at Monsters, Inc." He reached out for a handshake.

Randall kept on acting, trying to smile pleasantly as he shook hands. Being pleasant wasn't easy, though. This was a guy who had wanted him _banished_ , for goodness sake! "Good to meet you," he said through non-gritted teeth. "Uh—Zachariah Brennen, maintenance." He came up with a fake identity fast, using his father's first and Bernard's last names.

"Oh, dear, I never introduced myself!" the receptionist looked appalled. "I'm Celia Mae. So sorry I didn't say so earlier. I hope your friend decides to come and join the team."

"Right…" Randall nodded. "I'll uh—let her know about the positions, then. Merci."

Just then, the whistle blew to signal the lunch break. Monsters immediately began flooding the foyer as if by magic. _Thank goodness. Now I can blend in._ He tried again to leave and merge with the crowd. Back at the desk, he could hear the receptionist talking to Wazowski again, excited as the two of them made plans for later.

"Well, sweetie, shall we pick a place for dinner this evening?" She and her snake-hair crooned. "It's been so long since having a romantic dinner together! I heard about a popular new café that just opened, only a few streets away…"

But Wazowksi was looking back at the red-scaled maintenance monster, still walking away. That guy seemed a tad familiar…"Hey, hold up a second!"

Randall froze yet again. _How many more times do I have to keep coming back here?_ Was his first thought…But when he saw Wazowski's look of confusion, fear began setting in. He was careful to keep a few extra steps away this time, as the green monster spoke.

"It's Zach, right? Haven't I seen you somewhere, before?"

 _Uh oh. Now you're history. Just keep acting and resist the urge to punch him in the eye._ "Um…no, I don't think so. I'm pretty new around here."

"How long have you been with us, exactly?"

"About three weeks, give or take a few days." Randall went on in the French accent. "It's been—very nice." _Wow. I can do better than that._ He criticized the words. Hopefully that had sounded more convincing then he thought.

Still, Wazowksi didn't seem to know him. Randall held his breath, trying to appear neutral, and hoped neither of the two monsters in front of him would see through the disguise. Now Celia was squinting to see if he was a familiar face.

Wazowski did the same…and then shrugged it off. "Huh…could've sworn I knew you from somewhere…oh well! Must be all the new faces around here. I made the same mistake earlier with some other monster! Boy, that guy was just as confused as I was."

Randall exhaled slowly. The concentration needed to maintain the ruse was almost lost—yet he kept focusing and nodded. "Guess I'll be going, then," he walked away as fast as possible. "Au revoir."

"Or ree-voo-ar!"his old rival called. Celia, too, waved goodbye as he left. Not an ounce of suspicion arose between them.

Now lost in the crowd of lunchgoers, Randall rolled his eyes. _Who pronounces 'au revoir' like_ that _? It's like an insult to all the studying I've been doing_. Relieved that all had gone well, he ducked out of sight down another corridor. He had kept up the concentration for far too long; it became mentally draining after a while. Realization suddenly hit him, too: he couldn't keep glancing over his shoulder, doing this every time someone he hated showed up! That would be impossible to do forever.

He retreated back to the mens' locker room. It seemed empty now, since everyone had gone to the cafeteria. He went past all the lockers, returning to the mirrors above the bathroom sinks. He had to check his reflection…good. The disguise hadn't faltered one bit. Even he didn't recognize his own reflection at first, meaning Wazowski most definitely had been fooled. Right?...Randall wasn't so sure. He made his lower arms reappear from their invisibility and leaned over the countertop to take a few calming breaths.

"Man, I'm getting paranoid!" He spoke to himself, a habit picked up in the Human World and still done every now and then. "That was too close…"

At last, he broke the concentration and his scales instantly returned to purple. The scars all returned, no longer hidden. It was like breathing again after holding his breath for a long time.

"Uh—Randall?"

The voice made Randall yelp. _Damn! Someone saw that!_ He spun with a glare to face whoever it was.

It was only Jeffery Fungus, the red, bean-shaped, chicken-legged monster who had served as a minion of sorts in the past. The guy was not exactly a friend, but he knew more about what Randall was going through then anyone. Fungus also jumped in surprise, high enough so that his three-lensed glasses went askew. "S-Sorry, sir!" He stammered with usual nervousness. He noticed what was left of Randall's disguise; the hardhat, tool vest and glasses. "Uh—what are you doing?"

Randall frowned, as if it was obvious. "Keeping a low profile. What does it look like?"

"Oh." Fungus had an idea of what this was all about. "Then I guess you heard which monsters have returned from time off—"

"Of course I've heard! Don't you think I'd be aware of that?" Randall took off the hardhat to let his fronds fall down. He pulled at them in stress. "If Sullivan and Wazowski find me, who knows what they'll do?"

"Well, I don't think that's anything to worry about." said Fungus. "Because of you and those friends of yours, all banishment is illegal now."

"That didn't stop them the first time." Randall took off his glasses, and crossed every arm. "Grr…I wish this day would end, already! All of this hiding in plain sight is tiring. Fungus, do you have any idea where those idiots are now?"

"You shouldn't talk about the CEO like that—ah!" Fungus flinched again from Randall's death-glare. Even though things had changed, and Fungus now outranked him as a manager, the past was hard to forget. "Sorry. I just saw Mike head to the cafeteria with the receptionist, and Sulley will probably be up in his office the rest of the day."

"What about later?"

"I—I only manage Laugh Floors A through C! Mike isn't working on any of them this afternoon! He's supposed to be on Floor E."

This made Randall relax. He tucked his fronds under the hardhat again, determined to stay undercover for the time being. "Good. I've got to keep this up until I can figure out how to deal with them. Or until they deduce who I am. Whichever happens first…Call me Zach, OK?"

"Uh—OK." Fungus nodded when Randall demonstrated the cranberry-red scale pattern.

Fungus had observed Randall's behavior over the last couple of weeks. The lizard hadn't complained once about his new job in maintenance. He was less unpleasant—most of the time, anyway—and in the old days, Randall would have confronted anyone who crossed him. But avoiding monsters? Blending into the crowd? That wasn't like him at all. Curious, Fungus asked, "Why so bent on avoiding everybody? I mean—back when you weren't a maintenance guy, you were always vying for the top spot on the Scare Floor."

"That was different. No one saw me as 'the guy who escaped banishment.' Now I'm deemed a criminal, all thanks to that stupid scream extractor…I should never have agreed to take part in Waternoose's plan…You should have heard some monsters talking, earlier. They already suspect where I've been the last two years. The newspapers are full of everything that's happened!" Randall crossed his arms again, wishing he could melt away into thin air. "If the factory figures out I'm responsible for a young girl's death, too…I don't know what I'll do." He leaned back against the sink countertop, frowning at the prospect.

Fungus didn't respond, but sympathized with the predicament. No one in the factory had ever met Suzie. No one except for him.

Fungus had only met her once, during Randall and Suzie's detour into the Monster World during a supply raid. She had been excited to be back, even if only for a short time. Fungus remembered the girl to be very cheerful and optimistic, despite the dire circumstances at the time. It had shocked him that a teenage girl could be so chipper at a time like that. What shocked Fungus even more was seeing former Scarer Randall go back to the Human World with her; back to their gang of survivors who were waiting for them. Not long after that day, Suzie had died…

Seeing Randall like this, so forlorn, was indeed strange. Fungus wanted to help, so he tried to make a joke on what Randall should do. "Maybe just…pack up and leave town?"

The lizard rolled his eyes in annoyance, not even losing his temper. "You're no help. I'm not going anywhere! I've got to fix this. Becca, Bernard and Naomi all have their own problems, too, and I—"

But a strange sight made him stop mid-sentence.

Another glimpse of dark, royal-blue caught his eye. Nothing more than a random blur of color in the air. Randall couldn't be sure if he was imagining it or if someone was actually there. But he blinked and then it was gone. Whatever it was moved fast, flickering around the corner before he could get a good look.

Randall inhaled sharply and scurried on all eights to catch up to it. He whipped his head back and forth in all directions, but the corridor of the locker room was still empty. He quickly explored the adjacent rooms, just to be sure.

Everything was normal.

Fungus' head popped around the corner, too, panicked to see what was going on. "What is it? Spies?!"

Randall almost didn't respond. That had been the third time today…perhaps he really _was_ going paranoid. "I thought I just saw…" He began, but then thought better of it. There was no way he was admitting to Fungus that he was going crazy. "Never mind. Guess I'm jumpier then I thought. I've been seeing things all day…"

…

Randall managed to stay clear of Wazowski for the rest of the day. He didn't go anywhere near the receptionist's desk, either, just to be on the safe side. The earlier encounter had put him on edge, and he was extra-cautious for the next several hours. The disguise was worn every time he had to go near Laugh Floor E. He completed the safety sweeps of the Floors, and did all the other tasks of the day behind schedule. All the time spent being careful had made him lose track of time.

Upon stepping outside into fresh air, Randall breathed a sigh of relief. He gazed up at the clouds to have a moment of calm. _Whew! No more dressing up like a nerd. One day down; only the rest of my life to go_. They would deduce who he was eventually, and he couldn't avoid them forever…But he was certainly going to try.

He decided to return to Bernard's house via the bus to tell Becca the news right away. The mansion of a house was just outside the downtown area, only walking distance from the ocean. Sometimes on windy days, the smell of salty sea air wafted around. It was a most refreshing scent, good for calming one's nerves. But on this day, not even that would have pacified Randall. He walked quickly around the tall walls of the house, going right through into the backyard. Naomi was supposed to be here, too, but something must be keeping her. Maybe her job-hunting had made her lose track of time, too.

But it was Randall who was late. He found Naomi with Bernard inside the living room. They looked concerned about something, sitting on the edge of their respective chairs with tension.

"Hey," Randall wandered in through the side door. "Sorry I'm late. You won't believe the day I've had—"

Bernard interrupted, "We'll have to hear about it later, Randall. Are we ever glad you're back! Things are getting bad; I don't think Becca has left her room all day."

"Are you sure? That wouldn't be a surprise." Randall flopped onto the sofa.

Bernard explained what had happened. "Nick, Lucy and I went out on the water this morning; we tried to coax Becca into coming, too, but she wouldn't hear of it. Said she just wanted to stay here, sorting out more mementos. We just got back and she hadn't even budged from the armchair in her room."

"Not even I could talk her into leaving!" Naomi threw up her clawed hands, pouting. "Not even a stroll outside. I would have offered to take her out for a shopping spree or something, but since Mother cut me off, that probably won't happen for a while." She then added, "My job hunt didn't go so well, by the way. Maybe I need to re-think what to say during interviews…"

Randall rolled his eyes at Naomi's statement. She failed to realize how ridiculous she looked with that sparkly pink purse.

"It's a miracle we got her to come down for breakfast this morning. I declare, she's gotten even more stubborn then you, Randall." Bernard sighed and rubbed his temples to try and clear the headache that was forming. "Oh, how did it go at the factory today? With those two old rivals of yours?"

"Well—I saw one of them, but he thought I was somebody else." Randall admitted.

"Don't tell me you stayed invisible all day. You can't put it off for forever."

"Hey, I _avoided_ them all day, didn't I?" Randall shrugged in defense. "But that's not important right now. Let me go talk to Becca. Even if she doesn't like the thought of leaving that room, we've got to try something. Or just drag her out by force."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." said both Bernard and Naomi at the same time. They watched Randall head off to find the winding staircase that led up to the third floor. This time, Randall didn't get lost along the way; this house was just too massive.

…

Upon reaching Becca's suite, he found the door ajar. This was getting annoying; he had just about had it with Becca's stubbornness and didn't bother rapping on the doorframe to alert her. He just swung it open a little more to see where she was at.

Like Bernard had said, she was still curled up in the armchair. Only this time, she was sorting out scrapbooks of homemade birthday cards and other items. She heard the door swing open and spoke with mild anger. "I thought I said to leave me alo—oh, it's you. What do you want, Genius?"

"Just came to deliver some news that might peak your interest."

"Not interested in even hearing about it." She returned to the scrapbook, not bothering to argue.

Randall decided to sit on the couch across from her, so as not to seem like he was forcing her to do anything. That was the best way to talk Becca into things; by letting her make the final say. "You said this morning you wouldn't mind if I did some investigating for you. And I went through most of the day looking like a moron in a tool vest; after all that trouble, the least you could do is hear me out."

She made no hint of caring. "Alright. What is it, then? I didn't really think you were serious about all that."

"Well, excuse me for trying to stick to my word; that's something I've been working on these days. The receptionist said it would be wiser to apply for something as soon as possible, or else all the good spots will be filled."

"Uh huh. Can't have that, can we?" Becca said with sarcasm, not looking up.

Randall did some quick thinking…there had to be a way to convince her to speak up. Becca was never one to talk about what was really on her mind. Anything could set off her erratic emotions these days, so he was very careful in choosing his next words. Taking a deep breath, Randall asked her, with complete seriousness: "Are you glad to be back?"

Not quite understanding the seemingly random question, Becca answered. "I'm grateful to be back, yeah."

"That wasn't the question. I meant are you _happy_ to be back where we belong?" He gestured at the open balcony door, towards the fresh air of the Monster World.

Becca did not answer right away. She stared out at the blue sky for what seemed like ages, thinking hard about his question. This was _home_ ; where they all belonged. There was no need to hide from humans, nor hunt in order to find food, or seek shelter during bad weather. Life had completely turned around for all of them. Yet she was still confining herself to this one apartment in Bernard's house, with no sister to talk to…life had only become sadder ever since returning.

With a heavy heart, Becca finally answered Randall. "No. I guess not…If Suzie were here, things would be different…She would've gone back to school, and I would have helped her with anything along the way…Do you know she never even finished the tenth grade when she and I were banished?"

"I know. I'm sorry she's gone," Randall said carefully. "We're all sorry it happened. But Suzie wouldn't want to see you like this. Bernard and Naomi are worried you'll go into depression if this keeps up. Unless you're at that point already?"

"No, I'm not." Becca insisted. "I'm not even close to depressed. Is that what you all think? I've been depressed to the extreme before, trust me. Once when my father died, and again when my mother did. Those weren't fun times…Mom's was easier to deal with, though."

"Why?" Though Randall had a sneaking suspicion why.

"Because I had new responsibilities," she explained. "Listen up: when my father died, Suzie was so young that she barely remembers—er, _remembered_ —him. But Mom and I took it very hard…When she died not long after, I was eighteen, and Suzie was only eight. So all of a sudden, I had to raise her, and work on top of going to college. Life was becoming so busy that I wasn't nearly as sad as when I lost my father…It was almost a blessing to have so many things to do…" Becca trailed off. The words made her pause to think. Then, slowly and incredibly, a light of realization rose in her eyes. The silence dragged on as she thought. And then it hit her hard, like a thunderclap. "Oh my God, Bernard's right!" she declared, sitting up straighter. "Distractions! I—I need a distraction!"

"You're welcome." Randall resisted the to urge to smirk in self-satisfaction. He knew she would come around eventually.

Bernard and Naomi's heads popped into view around the doorway. "See," said Bernard. "Randall did you a big favor, asking around at the factory for you. I think you should thank him."

"No way. Gratitude isn't my strong suit." Becca refused. Then a twinge of fear came to her all of a sudden. "Hold on a second…I—I don't know if I should…"

"Why not?" said Naomi, coming into the room to sit down on the sofa, too. "Of course you should! I bet you're better at interviews then me. You should have listened to the way I babbled on to some of the monsters around town today. I sounded like a total jester!"

"It's not that, Princess. Interviews don't bug me…I just thought; what if the big boss or the supreme commander, or whatever he's called, asks about my background?" Becca wondered. "Randall, what happened when you got that gig at the factory?"

"Nothing major. I used to be a Scarer, remember? They already knew me. That manager hired me back reluctantly, mind you, but that was about it." He reassured her. "So if you really want to get out of this room and find some distraction, I'd act now. Before all the good spots are taken."

"Well…I'll think about it some more." She finally said.

The others all silently groaned.

But at least she hadn't said no. She stayed in the armchair thoughtfully, not looking at any of them. "Maybe I'll read over job descriptions before making up my mind…"

Becca's reluctance made Randall even more frustrated. Here he was, trying to do her a favor, and she was _still_ unenthusiastic! It made him wonder if he was even doing the right thing. All it seemed she wanted was to be left alone with her memories. But that wouldn't solve anything…she was in for a long recovery from the death her sister.

They were all still very sad about Suzie's passing. Even Bernard and Naomi needed time to heal, and they hadn't even _been_ there when Suzie had died… Randall would never forget those few, terrifying days in Iceland. Suzie's injuries had been so awful…he shook the chilling memory out of his head. Thinking about it only made his guilt all the more painful.

He retreated into the hallway to let Bernard and Naomi have their turn at talking to Becca. A few moments of solitude were what he needed right now. He let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, tired of all this craziness. Tired of his father not speaking to him, tired of Sam and Rex, tired of hiding from monsters at the factory…The stress of it all was even causing him to imagine things that weren't even there! The weird sights at work weren't worth telling his friends about; they were already anxious enough about Becca.

Suzie's death was entirely his fault. Of that, he was completely convinced, no matter what anyone said…If only there had been more time, maybe he could have saved her.

 _Why did she have to die?_ Randall let his head fall back with closed eyes. The guilt became much stronger, now. It felt like a giant knot twisting in his stomach relentlessly, refusing to unwind. _I wish there was an easier way to fix all of this…_

…

The interior of Monsters, Inc. had gotten much quieter within the last while. It was nearly evening, now, and most monsters had gone home for the day. But Celia Mae wasn't due to stop working until another hour had passed. Until then, Mike Wazowski was forced to simply wait. He had wonderful plans for dinner afterwards, taking her to a new place to eat and perhaps a romantic walk as he escorted her home. Whenever he was excited, time seemed to go by much slower. Usually this caused him to wander aimlessly through the factory, chatting with friends. Or even put in a bit of overtime.

But today, he had something else to do. A glimpse at the day's newspaper had reminded him of it. So Mike hurried to the elevator, going up to the factory's upper-crust offices. If didn't matter if Sulley was busy or not; he needed to speak to him right away.

Mike would've phoned his best friend earlier, but the subject was just too important. It would be better to talk about it face-to-face. He walked very fast with a newspaper in one hand. Not for the first time, Mike skimmed through the long article; it told all about the adventures of a certain group of banished, outcast monsters that had recently returned to the Monster World. Stories like this had been going on for a while, now. The more re-tellings Mike read, the harder he bit his lip in worry.

These stories couldn't be talking about who he thought they were talking about…

Mike practically ran down the carpeted hallway of the factory's upper floor. It was a nice hallway, decorated with convincing fake plants, along with massive portraits of past CEOs. (Sulley's was the newest addition to the row of framed monsters.)

"Gotta hurry, gotta hurry, gotta hurry…" Mike panted, running even faster. The double-doors at the hall's end were ornate wooden ones. They led into an office that was large and luxurious; full of comfy furniture, a giant main desk, and an expensive meeting table with over a dozen chairs surrounding it. Mike knew the office was an important place, and Sulley could be meeting with anybody right now.

But Mike didn't even bother knocking. He burst through the doors without so much as a warning. "Sulley! Glad I found you here. I've just remembered something really, really, really important! I've gotta talk to you, pal. About _this_!" He waved the newspaper in the air.

Sulley only looked up for a second before turning back to the computer screen. "Mike, I'm kind of busy right now; can it wait? There's a whole file of new personnel I have to read over," He glanced at the clock. "I want to finish this before dark. The working day's almost gone…"

"This won't take long, I promise. Have you read this? It's been circulating in the papers for weeks…" Mike tossed the newspaper onto the desk.

The article about the banished outcasts stared Sulley right in the face. The large, blue-furred CEO knew Mike would overact to this. Of course. The stories he, too, had read and they also had him concerned. It was almost hard to believe; banished monsters being let back into their World? Who exactly were the papers talking about? Both Mike and Sulley had a fear that it might be one certain monster they had hoped never to see again. Sulley sighed and furrowed his brow, contemplating the situation.

"So, what do you think?" Mike asked when he didn't answer. "It can't be him they're talking about, could it?"

Finally, Sulley responded. "It's way too far-fetched to be made up, Mike. Who'd make up something like _this_? A lot of the local papers are pretty reliable…"

"But you know how some reporters are! Always exaggeratin' and adding things here and there to make it more sensational. Who knows? I bet it's not even true. Life will remain just as blissful as it is right now…"

Sulley remained seated in the giant office chair as Mike began pacing around. The blue-furred monster was surprised at how nervous he was. "Mike, if you're so sure this is true, why are you asking me about it?"

"'Cause I want a second opinion. C'mon, Sulley, you're my best friend and you always tell the truth." The one-eyed monster rushed up to the desk and gripped the edge so hard he scratched it. He looked Sulley right in the face as he asked seriously, "Do you really think it's Randall they're talking about?"

"Well, it's possible, I guess…We don't know where he ended up that day." Sulley remembered the way they had tossed him through that door into oblivion. "Anything could have happened to him."

"But running into a whole _group_ of banished monsters? Doing all of these crazy stunts, 'for the sake of surviving' as the stories say?" Mike pointed at the article. "Seems a bit out-of-the-ordinary if you ask me. Look, it says here one of these outsiders _died_ in the Human World! It ain't giving the details, though. What the heck happened out there? I'm telling you, the whole story is too fishy."

"I know, I know…" Sulley absent-mindedly turned to look back at the computer screen. He really needed to finish going through the files. "Mike, there's plenty of time to talk about it later. Shouldn't you be going? Celia won't like to be kept waiting."

But Mike wasn't listening. "If all banished monsters are being sought out and returning here, then the gang that started it all could be here in the city, somewhere! Randall could be nearby, just waiting for the chance to carry out some good old-fashioned revenge on us!" He grabbed the paper and shook it in frustration. " _Why_ ,oh whydid they use fake names in this? It only makes me want to know more."

"Mike, calm down. I'm not too worried."

"Huh? How could you not be?" Mike said. "If that no-good, devious, shifty, power-hungry lizard is back, he can't be trusted. You and I know that more than anyone! What if he brought his banished criminal friends with him?"

"I really need to finish reading over these, Mike—"

"Also, why did you go and hire his _brother_ last year? With Samuel Boggs working around here, it's like an open invitation for Randall to just suddenly show up."

"Getting a counsellor in the factory was a good idea; even you admitted that, remember? A lot of Scarers and Laughers get stressed out from the job and need a bit of therapy now and then. It's a lot of pressure, sometimes." Sulley quickly skimmed through to another file, still talking to Mike. "Anyway, I doubt Randall will just suddenly—"

The name appearing on the computer screen made him stop. He even flinched in shock. This was certainly a surprise…the name at the top of the file read: 'Randall Boggs.' Sulley blinked to be sure it wasn't a computer glitch. Nope. The screen stayed the same.

"What? Computer virus set to blow up the office?" Mike scurried around the desk and pushed Sulley's big, hairy arm out of the way so as to see the screen. Randall's name practically jumped out and Mike punched the air in triumph. "Ha! See? I told you, pal."

"I guess the managers hired him during vacation…" Sulley meant to go through the files more thoroughly tomorrow, but it sure couldn't wait now. He read the entirety of this one, trying to figure out what was going on. This wasn't Randall's old file from two years ago; this was brand new, made in the last few weeks while they had been away on vacation time. Now it all made sense. "Hm…He's on the maintenance crew, now. I never would have pictured that."

"Wait, maintenance?" Mike then realized something. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second; the world has become crystal clear! That guy at lunchtime!"

"What guy?"

"Zach! If that really is his name…" Mike explained about the encounter with 'Zachariah Brennen' several hours ago. Were it not for the cranberry red scales and maintenance gear, the guy would look very familiar… The thought of Randall duping him so easily made Mike feel like a fool. "It had to be him! Boy, what a dirty trick…The guy is probably up to no good already, plotting to build another torture machine. Gotta admit, he's a good actor. That accent sounded legit."

But Sulley thought differently. "Mike, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. If he really is working here again, we can't go around accusing monsters and causing a scene. Nothing bad happened while we were away, right?" Sulley tried to make a point. "All we can do is keep an eye on him."

"'Keep an eye on him.' Humph…Have you forgotten that disappearing act? Pretty hard to laugh at that, Sulley." Mike paced over to the office couch and collapsed onto it. "Celia was there, too. I can't believe he tricked us just like that! I mean, he was _right there_!"

"And nothing bad happened, right? So we should just keep an eye out for any sign of trouble…" While they talked, Sulley decided to continue with office work before calling it quits. A couple of monsters had sent in online applications today, and he wanted to quickly read over a few. He made a few more clicks to the screen.

"Yeah, but yesterday, I didn't have to worry about Randall attacking us on sight. After illegally banishing that guy, I doubt he'll be happy to see us." The one-eyed monster then spied Sulley recoil away from the computer again. There was an even more confused look on his best friend's face. "Now what?"

"This is weird. Look at this one…"Sulley spun the screen around to allow Mike to read it. It was a job application, sent by some monster whom neither of them had heard of. Way down in the very last portion of the application was the required list of personal references that would vouch for her. That was pretty normal for a job application. Two of the references did not sound familiar at all; but one of those three names was 'Randall Boggs.'

The two friends glanced at each other, now very much in shock.

Mike didn't like it at all and recovered fast. "Good grief. It's like he's taunting us from afar. What do we do now?"

Sulley squinted at the job application. He thought long and hard about what the wisest course of action was. He wrinkled his brow like he always did when something important was on his mind. Then, without a word, he reached for the phone.

"Geez, you're going to call him?! Why?"

"The references, Mike?" Sulley explained. "If I consider this woman for a position, I'd have to check with her references, anyway." Sulley nodded at the newspaper lying on the desk. "This is also the quickest way to find out if these stories are true."

"Oh, good! An interrogation. I like it." Mike leapt from the couch in excitement. "Put it on speakerphone! I've got a few choice words to say to that guy—"

"No; this is still a business call," Sulley insisted. "Just sit down and take it easy, Mike. I don't like it, either, but we'll get to the bottom of this. Guy like Randall is sure to stir up trouble again, but the newspapers don't give us the full picture. We're not even sure what happened. Yes, the papers _could_ be exaggerating, but what if it's all true?"

"Randall's not known for telling the truth." So Mike stayed on the office sofa, all fidgety, ready to listen in.

The two friends nodded to each other, silently agreeing to the plan. If Randall really was back, they did not know what to expect. He could be plotting up some scheme, or perhaps become a crazed, unpredictable monster after such a long stretch living in the Human World. It was a dangerous place for monsters; anything could have happened out there. Maybe the stories were even worse than the newspapers led them to believe…

Before actually calling, Sulley read over the entire job application of Rebecca McKeen in preparation. He then took a serious breath and picked up the phone…

…

Randall got home much later than expected.

He, Bernard and Naomi had had a long discussion with Becca, trying to convince her to take action and do something other than sitting around like a bump on a log. During the gentle intervention, her emotions had dwindled down to go mostly neutral. In the end, Bernard practically shoved a laptop into her arms; it was the only thing that would prompt her to choose her next move.

 _That's a start, at least._ Randall thought as he walked up to the front door of his house. He was glad the day was almost over; it had left him mentally drained. No more hiding, and hopefully, no more seeing things. The odd sightings of that flickering dark-blue shadow were beginning to disturb him, now that he was alone with his thoughts. _Maybe I should tell Sam about it…nah. He'll just call me crazy. If it happens again, though—_

No sooner did he open the front door, his thoughts were interrupted by a small orange monster running like lightning towards him.

"Uncle Randy! You're back!" Rex jumped up to hug him around the middle.

Randall frowned in irritation. Did Sam have to put up with this kid all the time? How did he stay sane? Randall stepped into the hall with Rex still clinging on. "Don't call me that."

"Why not? I like you!" Rex kept hugging his middle, refusing to be pried off.

"But it's weird." Randall doubted he would ever get used to the title of 'Uncle.' "Do you know where Sam is?"

"In the kitchen, burning stuff." Rex hopped down. "Hey, why do I have to call him 'Dad' and you can call him 'Sam?' Can I call him that? It'd be neat to call my dad by his name."

"No, that would also be weird." Randall tried to escape, but Rex began following him around. So he kept his cool and strongly hinted, "Sorry, Rex, I've gotta talk to him about something important. Shoo!"

"'Kay. Come play with me later!" The little four-year-old scampered off into the toy-strewn living room. He was so cheerful that he didn't even seem to mind his uncle's short-fused way of speaking. Or maybe he just didn't even notice; Randall wasn't too sure.

The tired lizard entered a smoke-smelling kitchen to find his brother trying to whip up something edible. Sam was a workaholic with a second job. He had spent all day teaching a psychology class at the local college; no doubt he had had a long day as well. Yet he still put some effort into preparing a meal for everyone.

The elder Boggs brother smiled when Randall came in. "Hi! Did you run into Mike and Sulley today? I'm curious to hear how that went." He went on stirring whatever was in the pot as he talked. "You know, Randall, when I heard they had tossed you through a door, without so much as a fair trial, I went so far as to break into the door vault last year to find you—" He then saw Randall's crafty grin and made a guess as to what his day had been like. "Oh no, you didn't stay invisible all day, did you?"

Randall's smirk dropped and he rolled his eyes. "Why is everybody bugging me about that? I don't plan on speaking to those two ever again." While Sam went on making pasta, Randall told of his brilliant disguise and of how it had completely fooled every monster he ran into. "…all except for Jeffery Fungus. So, long story short, my alter-ego is 'Zach.' So if you see me in character at the factory, just call me that, OK?"

Sam laughed. "You used our father's name? Hah! Wait until I tell him about this one—"

"Do that and I'll strangle you to death. Of which I've had lots of practice at." Randall warned, pointed to a few alligator-bite scars.

Randall sat on one of the tall stools to watch Sam's attempts at cooking. The pasta sauce in the pot began giving off an even worse odor when Sam added a new monstrous ingredient. Randall nearly gagged at the smell. "Ugh. What did you kill to make that stuff? I think I'll make my own dinner, thank you very much. But anyway…I've got to talk to you."

It was rare when the brothers had honest, heart-to-heart conversation, so Sam was a bit startled. "Well, this is a surprise. What about?"

Putting his worries into words was difficult. Talking to his brainiac, know-it-all brother had never been easy, but Randall truly wanted to hear someone his thoughts on all of this. Sam's advice could come in handy. So he went on, telling of how he and his friends were struggling with Becca. They were all still grieving for Suzie, too, so this was a rough time for all of them. But for her, it was far worse. After all, she had lost her entire family.

Randall wrapped it up and got to the point. "…None of us are sure what to do. And Becca refuses to go see a grief counsellor or some other shrink like that. So, what I mean to ask is…am I doing the right thing?" Randall elaborated before Sam could respond, "Trying to help Becca, I mean, with all this nonsense at the factory. Ever since Suzie—well, Becca hasn't been acting quite like herself since the day I told them of the accident."

"It's different for her." Sam began chopping up orange-spotted vegetables. "You and your friends only knew Suzie for varying amounts of time, right? But Becca knew her since the day she was born. Think about how hard that would be. It'll take a lot longer than a couple of months to recover from a loss as great as that. It's good that you're all sticking together, though, even after returning from the Human World. Having friends around is sure to help her along the way. Bernard and Naomi seem to be coping fairly well, I've heard…But what about you?"

' _What about me?' What kind of question is that?_ No one would _ever_ know how hard it had been that day: discovering Suzie's skull to be broken, trying in vain to save her, and burying her in a grave all alone in Iceland…Randall refused to let his inner turmoil show. A slight frown up at his brother was his answer.

"That great, huh?" Sam understood. "Well, whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'll listen."

Suddenly, Rex materialized out of nowhere, in the middle of the kitchen. "Boo! Listen to what?"

The brothers both flinched. "Rex, how long have you been in here?" Sam scolded, hoping his son hadn't heard anything gruesome, or anything that would give him mischievous ideas.

"Long enough. I can disappear for a whole eight seconds!" Rex jumped up onto a chair at the kitchen table to play with the cutlery that was there. "Uncle Randy, the Becca lady is your friend, right? If she's in trouble, then you and your other friends should help her."

Sam spoke lower so that Rex couldn't hear. The boy was too busy with the forks and spoons to eavesdrop on the grown-ups, anyway. "Listen to the kid, Randall. Sometimes he makes a lot of sense around here."

"I'm not about to take advice from a four-year-old. Especially that one." Randall returned to the worry that was on his mind. "So, what do you think I should do if Becca passes up the chance I told her about?"

"Just keep talking to her. Go and see her every day. Sometimes even just talking about the loss of a loved one is a way to cope with their absence."

Randall propped all four elbows on the counter to clutch his aching head. "Tried that several times; all of us have! She keeps steering away from the topic, or loses her temper and threatens to punch us. There are a good many other excuses that I don't care to repeat."

The elder brother sighed, seeing how stressed-out his brother was. It was always better to let Randall come to him with problems when he was ready and willing. And right now, Randy might lose his temper if he was forced to say anything more. So Sam decided to change the subject. "I can tell you're frustrated about all this. After the long day you've had, it's no surprise. And a disguise? You've got to tell Rex about that later; he'll think it's hilarious. Here," Sam handed over a stirring spoon. "Help me fix this pasta and make it more appetizing. I'm sure we'll figure something out to solve your problem, but right now, let's take a break and focus on something ordinary. Like eating."

"Yeah! I love eating!" Rex called over from the table. "Is it that burnt cheesy-fish thing you made last time, Dad?"

"I thought you were busy? Don't worry about him," Sam reassured Randall. "Rex'll forget about this whole conversation within the next ten minutes. I hope."

Randall ended up remaking the entire batch of pasta sauce from scratch. His taste in food was more refined then the average monster, and he enjoyed cooking and baking as a hobby. So he made some fresh pasta and a creamy herb-scented sauce for all of them to have for dinner. Sam helped by chopping up more vegetables—it was hard to get that wrong—and even Rex lent a few hands by stirring the pot. (All while standing on a chair.) The dinner preparation really did make Randall's tension go away. Sam was right; he could use a breather…

The pasta turned out much more appealing than Sam's burnt-sauce version. It was dished up into bowls and served at the table, where Rex promptly dug in with gusto. He gave his uncle a thumbs-up in approval. As the Boggs brothers sat down to join him, the phone rang. Randall paid it no attention, since it was usually for Sam. Having two jobs really kept the workaholic Sam busy in day-to-day life.

So his brother stood again with a sigh. "Just when I sat down, too…" And reluctantly went to go answer it.

"Mmm…" Rex dug into the pasta. The sauce was splotched all over his face. "This is great! You're a better cook then Dad, aren't you, Uncle Randy?"

With little tolerance for the kid, a part of Randall didn't feel like answering. But then he decided to agree, "Yes I am."

The cooking session had put him much more at ease. He began to eat while listening to Rex babble on about his own fun-filled day. The antics of a four-year-old were all carefree and easy to hear about. And Randall didn't really mind listening this time, since his mood had improved. Now that he could just relax and have dinner, it was good to finally take a break from the hassle of the day.

"Uh…Randall? Phone's for you…" said Sam, covering the receiver with one hand.

 **CLIFFHANGER! There will be a lot of these!**

 **I don't know much about young children, so writing about Rex is something I'm just having fun with as I go. Really happy with how this super-long part turned out, and feel free to leave a review! Worded politely, though, please. :) Stay tuned for more!**


	5. The First Nightmare

**In this one, we're right where we left off with Randall's stress-level going up a few more notches with a terrible nightmare. Still doing a bit of story set-up here, but it's all necessary for what's coming up later.**

Chapter Four: The First Nightmare

When Sam didn't explain right away, Randall prompted, "Well? Who is it?"

"Uh…no one you'd want to talk to, but you're going to have to, anyway." Sam kept a hand over the receiver, so the monster on the other end would not hear them. "It's James Sullivan."

Randall dropped his fork in surprise and anger. "What?! What does that over-grown blue bear want?"

"Says he's calling up references, in regards to a job application."

" _Becca_ …" Randall quickly deduced what had happened. "There's no other explanation…she must've listed me as one. _Without_ my permission! I'll get her for this…" He then ordered Sam, "Tell him I'm not here."

"That would be lying. Takes notes, Rex," Sam nodded at the little orange monster. "This is what you're _not_ supposed to do when somebody calls you on the phone."

"'Kay." said Rex before turning to Randall. "Whatcha gonna do, Uncle Randy?"

"Stop calling me that. And you," Randall frowned at his brother. "Hang up. Now."

"I can't do that. You do realize this is the CEO on the line? I'm fully aware of how much you hate him, but he's still our boss, like it or not." Sam leaned against the wall, exasperated by Randall's determination.

"Good grief, you are such a suck-up. I told you, Sam; I'm not speaking to him or Wazowski as long as I can help it. Just hang up! _Now_!" But Sam only made a guilty face, making Randall wonder, "Oh no; you didn't say I was here, did you?"

"No, I just said, 'one moment, please, I'll see if he's here.' And then I started this pointless argument. It's like your friends keep on telling you, why not just get it over with? You're gonna have to face him eventually." Sam advised, but nothing he said would make Randall change his mind. His stubborn brother refused to even get up from the kitchen table. So Sam sighed and spoke into the phone. "Sorry, Sulley. He doesn't seem to be here. I was positive he was hanging around a little while ago..." There was a pause as he listened to whatever Sullivan was saying. "Yeah, I sort of took him in when he got back…yep. It's been a real pain…" (At this comment, Randall glared furiously.) "…Sure! If you need another reference, call back anytime! So, how was your vacation? I heard you had gone to Bela Island…"

To Randall's surprise, Sam went on chatting. This only made this day all the more worse. With a groan, Randall propped his elbows on the table to clutch his head in frustration. "Just my luck. My own brother is friends with my worst enemy."

Rex didn't fully understand why he was suddenly upset, and so just continued eating pasta quite happily.

Sam rejoined them after talking for several minutes. His eyes widened at Randall's extremely angry, squinted glare. "What? I'm not allowed to have conversations on the phone with my friends?"

"You could've gotten me in a heap of trouble."

"Nope. Getting into trouble is something you do pretty well on your own. Your old rivals _know_ you're at the factory. They just read the new personnel files; Sulley told me, and he was very surprised at finding your name there. So I guarantee they are going to say something to you, after all that happened two years ago." Sam began to eat dinner calmly. "You can try to avoid it, Randall, but you can't keep on hiding forever."

Randall drummed his fingers in annoyance. "Can't believe she put my name on that application…"

"Don't be mad at Becca for that. She probably didn't have much choice in choosing references. Consider yourself lucky I didn't tell Sulley you were only ten feet in front of me; I won't keep covering for you like that."

"I will!" piped up Rex, raising one of his four hands. "I'll help any way I can. Who are you hiding from? Bad monsters?"

"No, just some monsters who don't like me very much." The quiet fear in the back of his mind once again made itself known. It was almost enough to make him lose his appetite. Randall played with his food in thought. The pasta was delicious, but suddenly, he was too stressed-out to finish it. If his old rivals found him—well, more like _when_ they found him—he wasn't at all sure what they would say or do. _They might banish me all over again…_

…

Long after the sun had gone down, Sam began the daily struggle of getting Rex upstairs to get ready for bed. As usual, the boy made up excuses to stay up late. While this was going on, Randall tried to discreetly slip out of the house into the backyard. He heard the kid complaining all throughout the ground floor of the house and it was driving him crazy. Outside it would be nice and quiet.

Randall walked casually past the living room, at a moment when Sam had his back to the door.

"Aw, but I want to play some more!" Rex whined as Sam scooped him up. In the middle of the room was a massive fort built entirely out of blocks. Still in the construction stage, apparently. "The castle won't get done and my knights need a place to live!"

"Tell you what: I'll leave it exactly the way it is, and you can finish it tomorrow. The knights will have the best castle to defend from any enemy who tries to—" Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Randall making a beeline towards the kitchen side door. "Randall, where are you going?"

"I'm turning in early. Today has been a load of—" He held his tongue as Sam pointed at Rex to remind his that there was a child in the room. So Randall reworded the sentence without any language. "Today has been…very long and rotten."

Satisfied with that statement, Sam called out as Randall marched towards the side door. "Don't sleep in the tree, again, please?"

"The tree stays. 'Night." Randall ignored him and headed outside, anyway. The 'sleeping-in-trees' habit was just too strong to break.

It was nice and peaceful in the backyard. No noise except for a few insects buzzing around. There was also the occasional car driving by, and some of the neighbors could be heard talking, but these noises were distant and didn't bother him. He leaned against the trunk of the big tree to breathe deeply. So much had happened today…and it had not ended in his favor.

He climbed nimbly up the trunk for refuge in the branches. Now _this_ felt right; a safe haven where he could sleep soundly and think clearly. As he climbed, he talked to himself about his newfound, stressful concerns. "So those two know I'm here…this is just perfect. Thank you for nothing, Becca! Now I'll have to work twice as hard at hiding. But that shouldn't be too difficult…Wazowski didn't see through the disguise, so it'll work for a while longer. I hope."

From the leafy shelter, he could glimpse through the window of Rex's room in the upstairs loft. The drapes hadn't been drawn yet, and Sam could be seen attempting to get Rex settled into bed. The small boy kept escaping his father's grip to run around. The sight was quite funny, since Rex went partially invisible at some points. Randall watched, chuckling with amusement, until Sam finally caught the kid. It looked like he was going to read stories in a vain attempt to make Rex tired. Randall rolled his eyes, doubting that plan would work. The kid was a hyper one, bound to stay up late no matter what.

Sam went to the window to close the drapes and gazed outside to search for his brother in the tree. As a joke, Randall reclined on a branch and waved to prove that he was perfectly content up here. Sam didn't seem to find it funny, though, and drew the drapes with a sigh.

Randall scoffed. "He has no idea what I've been through. If _he_ had to sleep in trees for two years, he would get used to it, too." Randall climbed higher to find his favorite spot in the branches.

There was one place near the top where many branches intersected, forming a secluded nest that felt just like the first tree he had ever lived in back in the Human World. It felt so normal, being up here…it wasn't long until Randall's eyes slowly shut. This spot was great: it was high up, nice and quiet, and the thick leaves would shelter him if it rained. Now he could relax…the sound of soothing, singing insects and the hush of a breeze whistling through the leaves lulled him to sleep…

… _Wherever this place was, it was very dark._

 _No distinct shapes could be made out; only flickering shadows wherever he turned. He looked in all directions, trying to figure out where he was._

 _There were some sounds: the slap of water echoing throughout the cold room and an ominous clink of chains. The room seemed to be rocking steadily back and forth. He wandered through the shadows until bumping into something hard. Feeling it in the darkness, it seemed to be a big box made of wood; a crate or something._

 _A hint of light filled the room and he realized the crate was only one of many. There were towers of them everywhere, forming pyramids and skyscrapers that reached high. All of them were tied together with either chains or rope._

 _Now he realized what this place was; the cargo hold of a ship._

 _But it was so very dark …Beyond the towers of crates there was nothing but blackness; an emptiness that faded away into nothing. The shadows flickering around reminded him of the reflections off of water, only far more foreboding._

 _He didn't like it. There wasn't much he was afraid of, but this place was creepy. It made him a bit edgy…He examined himself to discover that he was covered in dirt, fresh cuts and scars, and his scales were a tad frosty-looking, for the temperature was dropping even more. It felt like winter, and his scales had a tendency to change color of their own accord if it was too cold._

" _Better find a way out of here…" He whispered. No one could last very long in a place like this._

 _But it seemed endless! The maze of crates had no beginning or end. The darkness came and went, the weird shadows never ceasing. Wherever he turned, a new wall of boxes appeared and threw him off course. After wandering around for a long time, he began to panic. "Hello? Is anyone here?"_

 _No answer came. Now almost running, he fled past more and more of the crates, getting lost by the sheer size of this place. Every tower looked the same. He kept going until he felt dizzy from running. "Anyone?!"_

 _A sudden lurch from the waves outside made him lose balance. The room rocked hard to one side and he fell to all eights. On the floor, a strange substance splashed onto his hands. It appeared out of nowhere, and was damp, sticky, warm, and ...red. It was everywhere! He recoiled and stood up in horror. There was a thin trail of the stuff leading off around a corner. It could only mean something terrible was waiting somewhere near…_

 _Fear welled up inside him and he didn't dare go an inch further. Instead he ran._

 _Another pyramid of crates blocked his path. The trail of blood was growing, getting wider and spreading towards him, so he climbed onto a single crate to avoid the stuff. This had to be a sick prank. He called out to whoever might be listening…"Hey! This isn't funny…"_

 _Still, there was no answer. Yet he had a sense that someone was close by._

 _What little light there was began fading significantly all of a sudden. When there was barely enough left to see, he really began to get nervous. He stayed where he was, with no place to go, fighting to stay calm. Wooden crates and a few drops of blood weren't going to hurt him…right?_

 _That was the moment when a figure emerged from the darkness. It stood in the trail of blood to look straight at him. It made no sudden moves…it just stood there, staring._

 _He stared right back. He felt his heartrate speed up…The figure was scaled in royal blue, with gold speckles on its face and limbs. Long, fin-tipped feelers, an eel-like tail, and a small stature; she was very young._

 _Suzie._

 _Some of the blood emanated from a massive caved-in break on her skull. Her arm was broken, visibly bent at a weird angle. Bruising was on her face, and the color of her scales was dull and sickly-looking. Although her eyes were open, they had no life to them._

 _His voice left him as he shirked away, backing up against the wall of crates._

 _Suzie's expression was not one of anger. Instead it was very sad. The saddest he had ever seen, just like the night she had died. Both arms hung limply as she continued to stare at him. Then a frown slowly formed on her face with each second that passed._

 _This was very unnerving. He remained frozen on the spot. "S—Suzie?"_

 _He eyes were dead as she spoke. "You should have been here."_

" _W—What?"_

" _I fell. No one was there to catch me." The red trail on the floor crept ever closer…Suzie herself began walking towards him. She was getting angry, an emotion that he rarely saw her express. "Stowing away was your idea in the first place!"_

 _He felt the crates move of their own accord, trapping him with no escape. The creepy tendrils of blood reached out like fingers, with Suzie doing the same—_

He awoke with a gasp of fear. He clutched his chest with three hands in a vain attempt to slow down his heartrate.

Nighttime had come upon the backyard, and it was dark, save for the moonlight shining in the garden. The leaves and branches of the tree grew all around, the rough, sturdy bark comfortable against his scales. The singing insects were still humming away like they did every night. All was normal…there was nothing to be afraid of…absolutely nothing.

But for several minutes, Randall panted. Had reptilian monsters the ability to sweat, he was sure he'd be doing so; a terrified, cold sweat. It had been a while since he had had a nightmare. They had been most prominent in the aftermath of Suzie's death, gradually coming to a stop the more time went on. But occasionally one still formed now and then…tonights had been the most disturbing thus far.

Randall doubted he would get back to sleep.

…

Against all odds, Randall managed to avoid any interactions with his old rivals for days. He had yet to see Sullivan, but Wazowski was a frequent sight on the Laugh Floors. Or even from great distances across the hallways and passages of the factory, so Randall would always retreat the opposite way. By using his disguise and fake name whenever catching sight of Wazowski, Celia Mae, or any monsters who were close friends with them and Sullivan, that week at the factory passed by smoothly. But it was mentally exhausting, having to stay in disguise so often.

"You can't keep it up indefinitely," Bernard warned one morning at their breakfast get-together in the Brennen's backyard. It was another lovely spring day in Monstropolis. Being out here in the secluded, green setting with his friends made Randall feel somewhat better about his problems.

"Yeah. There's bound to be a slip-up at some point." said Naomi, munching on a piece of fruit. "I mean, James phoned your house last week!"

Becca added quietly, "I think it's safe to say your enemies know where to find you if they really wanted to beat you up or something."

"Something is bugging me, though," Randall confessed further. "If they know I'm back, why haven't they started questioning others, or asking around to try and track me down? I'm positive most monsters in the factory think my alter-ego is a completely different guy. No one's seen through it, yet…"

"Don't get too confident," said Bernard. "Someone will figure it out. We're all just waiting for the balloon to pop."

Randall nodded in agreement. Glancing over at Becca, who had been eerily quiet ever since breakfast began. He considered bringing up the subject of Suzie. Sam's advice had been to try and talk about her, focusing on good times and memories instead of her mere absence. But after the disturbing nightmare a few days ago, Randall was still uneasy about the topic. From his perch on the tree branch, he began drumming his fingers distractedly.

"You haven't been getting enough sleep, Randall," Bernard noticed the tired circles under his eyes. "Is there something else bothering you?"

Of course. They all knew each other well enough that it was easy to tell when someone was acting out-of-the-ordinary. Randall cursed silently. Naomi and Becca were looking at him, too, both with the same concern. He thought fast and did some acting to sound ultra-convincing. "No. I'm just worried about everything…."

"Try not to be," said Naomi, taking a bite of pancakes, now. "We're gonna figure it out, just you wait and see! I have yet another day of job-hunting ahead of me. There are a few new places to look at downtown, so maybe I'll get lucky this time. Becca, have you heard from James Sullivan, yet? It's been a solid week since you sent in that application…"

Becca was sitting in the grass, eating breakfast methodically. She didn't feel much like conversation, but Naomi was persistent. Even when Bernard tried to get her to speak up, Becca spoke with little emotion. The prospect of a possible audition for a Scare Coach position didn't seem to make her happy. It was like she didn't even care.

So Bernard tried another positive tactic. "You know what I think would be fun?" he addressed everyone. "We should head out to a shooting range soon. It'd be a shame to get rusty, now, would it, Becca? You always were a perfect shot on hunting expeditions."

"Yeah, that sounds great!" Naomi practically jumped at the idea. "I'm still not too thrilled with guns, mind you, but my archery skills were really getting good when we were all still banished. Maybe I can brush up on them. But I gotta be careful not to break a claw, though. I just had them sharpened…"

Becca had been a master with that trusty shotgun in the wilderness, so they tried encouraging her to see if it would affect her mood. It didn't.

Randall stayed perched up on the low-hanging branch. While the others talked, he wondered if it was right bringing up even more of his own problems. Becca was clearly having a far worse time then him. And he was doing his best not to be too selfish these days. Trying to better oneself was a long, not-so-easy task.

Randall went back to pondering. So many weird things had been happening to him lately: his old rivals _knew_ he was at the factory, but had yet to find him, he was seeing things that weren't there, and now a gruesome nightmare to top it all off!

He knew that night had only been a dream…just another re-living of the accident _. It was a dream. That's it! Just a weird, disturbing dream that I'm sure lots of monsters would have…I've had nightmares about Suzie before. And about what happened that day._ But this one bothered him more than usual for some reason. He thought about the strange sightings in the factory. They appeared as a glint of watery shadows, or even the sight of Suzie's royal-blue scales flickering around a corner. Just little things like that. Not enough to make him nervous, but just enough to cause some wariness. He suspected it all had something to do with his guilty conscience.

As their peaceful breakfast neared its end, Becca was still being pretty quiet, even as Bernard and Naomi tried to coax her out of her shell. Randall wasn't at all surprised at her mood. It was always so unpredictable; yesterday she had been acting very angry about the mere mention of Monsters, Inc., and the day before that on the verge of tears. Now _that_ was very unlike her. She was already going through enough, and Randall didn't want to add to her troubles.

So for rest of the outdoor breakfast, he did not mention Suzie, the nightmare, or any of his imaginings. How could he? Bernard, Naomi and Becca knew of what he had gone through, being with Suzie the day she died. But they could not possibly fathom what a heavy baggage of emotions he carried as well. He was just better at hiding it.

Randall decided to keep everything to himself. But he sincerely hoped he was not going crazy.

 **I started this part as one humongous, overly-long chapter, but it was getting soooo long that I divided it up into 3 chapters. That means the next one will be ready to post in a couple of days. All for your enjoyment! :)**


	6. Becca's Audition

**Woo hoo! Chapter 5 is here! :) There are some hints of friendships forming, which is the main theme of this story, while Becca begins to make some progress in her healing from Suzie's death. Also, things get a bit more interesting with Randall's imaginings really taking a turn for the worse. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Five: Becca's Audition

Since Samuel worked part-time as a counsellor for Monsters, Inc., he took Rex to the factory's daycare on certain days. This was very worrying for Randall. At first, he thought Sam would inform others of his red-scaled, tool-laden alter-ego. But it soon became clear that _Rex_ was the one to worry about. The kid tended to sneak out of daycare to wander around and explore. Sometimes he would go out in search of his father or uncle, talking to anyone he met along the way. This kept Randall wary and extremely cautious. _That kid is going to blow my cover if he keeps sneaking out!_ So he made sure to keep a watchful eye for any small, orange-scaled children as he went about his work.

Randall was busy enough without his nephew wandering around. There had been a ton of strange glitches with the door stations lately. They were confounding not only him, but Scarers, Laughers, the assistants, and all the other maintenance workers, too. An unintentional door would be summoned, for example. Or a door would not come online. Sometimes it would not even connect with its counterpart in the Human World. The worst glitch had been when a Scarer went through into a wrong time zone, into a place where it was daylight and had nearly been caught by the human kid's parents. (That door was subsequently destroyed in a shredder.)

All of these problems added to Randall's stress level. He was getting very good at fixing the stations, but so many little problems made him wonder if something was wrong with the entire systems. It was so annoying!

One morning as he was making his way across the foyer, there was an unexpected guest that grabbed his attention. Becca could be seen gazing around at the domed glass ceiling, admiring it as she sauntered away from the reception desk. She must've just finished talking to Celia Mae, asking for directions or something. Becca's expression was neutral; she seemed to be heading towards the hallways that led to miscellaneous rooms of the factory.

It was good to see her out in public, finally, but Randall was surprised at finding her here. He didn't think she'd ever leave that room of hers. "Becca!" He caught up to her before she got far. "Good to see you out and about. What are you doing here?"

With his disguise on, it took her a moment to recognize him. "Oh! It's you. I can't believe you're still hiding from everyone. That's pretty convincing, though…" She admired his camouflage before explaining, "I got a call back from the CEO; Jim Sullivan, or whatever his name is. They're auditioning for coaches today. Thought I'd give it a shot…"

"So that's why the simulator rooms are off-limits this morning." But Randall could tell she wasn't very enthusiastic. Her voice was monotone and the way she was looking around the foyer with minor interest plainly said she wasn't too sure about being here. So he tried to sound encouraging. "That's good news, isn't it?" He said as they stood there, talking. "You used to be one before banishment, right? So this should be easy."

"I dunno…it's been a while." Becca reminisced. "To tell the truth, I almost didn't come."

"Did Bernard give you another pep-talk?"

"Nah. He's out with Nicholas and Lucy on the fishing grounds again, and Naomi said she was off job-hunting somewhere today. I figured I'd bump into you here, but no one else knows where I am."

Randall didn't know what else to say when Becca trailed off, still gazing at the foyer's massive domed ceiling and spotless floors. So he offered to show her the way to the simulator rooms; that way, he could make sure she wouldn't bail. But even then, she just nodded mutely and walked through the corridors with little emotion and without saying a word. _This isn't good…she's got to have some personality for the audition. That old bossiness would really come in handy for something like this._

The simulator and training rooms were deep in the heart of the factory. The corridors could get a little twisted and it was easy to get lost if one didn't know the way. "Suzie would never find her way out of this place." Becca said with amusement as Randall accompanied her. That was probably true; the girl had always had a terrible sense of direction.

Randall chuckled ever so slightly. "Yeah…" When they had all been living in the Human World, no one could leave Suzie alone for a minute; she was always prone to getting lost and it used to drive them all crazy. She rarely left the campsite on her own.

The simulator rooms had a pair of big, double doors leading into them. There were some monsters already lined up outside waiting to be summoned in: the line contained quite a few big, tough-looking guys, but also some small and serious types. Randall was a bit surprised at just how many monsters were auditioning for these positions. He counted eleven others, with some of them having relatives present for moral support. So there was a bit of chatter in the small crowd as he and Becca approached.

"So, how does this work?" Becca asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. The big line-up didn't appear to daunt her. She didn't even seem to care. "Do we all go in one at a time, or as a group, or what?"

Randall had never witnessed one of these, but sort of knew how they worked. So he explained, "The guy in charge has to narrow it down, and has to see how you handle a crowd and perform under pressure. There's a group interview first, and after that, everyone takes turns 'coaching' some volunteer Scarers. Or Laughers, since they've added that title as well…" Randall glanced down the lineup at all the other monsters here. "And I think there are solo interviews after all that? I don't really remember; but you're allowed to have a few monsters come in and watch during the audition part, so there'll be an audience. Think you can handle it?" He challenged, trying to provoke her competitive side.

The job of a Coach involved advanced training for new Scarers, testing their skills, and to make sure no one was getting rusty when it came to scaring kids. Coaches often offered tips and tricks as well. Randall had never gone for a coaching session in his life; his own Scaring skills had been so superb that he hardly needed the extra practice. He assumed everything applied to the new Laughers as well. (Even though funny monsters was a dumb idea in his opinion.)

Becca gave a half-smile, sort of. "You think I have to _act_? I was _born_ to play this role, Genius. I hardly have to act." She too, glanced at all the strangers. "Well, maybe a _little_ bit of acting will get me through it." She was aware that she hadn't been herself as of late. So she tried to focus on the present moment; for the next hour, at least. A side-look at Randall in his absurd disguise helped. "I can't take you seriously looking like that, Randall. You'd better cut it out, trying to be someone else."

Randall huffed, refusing to break his concentration. He whispered, "Call me 'Zach,' OK?"

"Isn't that your father's name? What does he have to say about this?"

Another huff of annoyance was Randall's answer. His father knew nothing about it. The busy man hadn't even bothered to talk to him lately. But Randall shook the thought away. He had more important things to think about right now.

As they waited in the back of the line, he noticed Jeffery Fungus was here, too. The three-eyed monster wore an even tackier necktie then yesterday, and was talking to a petrified fellow who was standing near the front of the line-up. Randall guessed this was some relative of Fungus' auditioning for a role as well, for the two of them looked very similar to one another.

Becca wasn't nearly as nervous as the others. With her currant mindset of focusing on the present moment, her mood grew a little more confident. Randall couldn't be sure if this was an act, or if she was genuinely growing excited about this, but it was a good sign.

As for himself, there were still a lot of fix-it jobs to be done in the factory, and he saw no further reason to stay. Becca was here, and it didn't look like she would retreat. So he was about to head back to work and leave her to it, when the big double-doors suddenly swung open.

Randall paused. Then he frowned in fury and almost went invisible on instinct. But he managed to hold his disguise together and step behind some taller monsters in the lineup to stay out of sight.

Every drop of blood boiled with rage at the sight of James P. Sullivan. _This_ was the monster who had literally thrown him through a door! _Illegal banishment at its finest._

"Good morning, everyone!" Sullivan stood in the doorway, his blue-furred, purple-spotted bulk blocking it. He was wearing a tie, and carried a clipboard, ready to start this arduous process. But he smiled with friendliness to put some of the candidates at ease. "Glad you could all make it. I'm James P. Sullivan, or just Sulley, if you like. As you know, you're all here for the positions of Scare and Laugh coaches. Ever since the introduction of Laugh energy, there has been quite a spike in the workers here, meaning we need capable coaches to keep them all well-trained, both new recruits and long-time employees. Now, there's nothing to be nervous about for these auditions. I like to think of this as a bit of a tournament…"

Sullivan went on with the motivational speech, while Randall paid less and less attention to it. The blue buffoon was looking over the queue of monsters, some of them ready to participate, others just here to be the supportive audience. Randall prayed he wouldn't be noticed amongst them. He was about to slip away and go back to work; those door station glitches on Laugh Floor D wouldn't fix themselves…but a gaze over at Becca made him stop.

Her arms were still crossed; now she looked very tense, just like everyone else. That wasn't the Becca he knew. She was known for being tough, no-nonsense, and fearless with a mind of her own. Before Randall knew it, his conscience told him to stick around. It made sense; nobody else knew Becca was even here, and she could certainly use the support. _Those door glitches can wait, I guess._ He thought as the line of monsters began filing into the simulator room. _Hopefully this won't take too long._

So he nudged Becca's arm to signal he would stay. The half-smile she gave told him he was doing the right thing. She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. "I'm still not sure about this, Genius. But I certainly can't blow it. Not when I've come this far."

In the past, Randall had rarely come to the simulator rooms. But right away he noticed a few odd, new additions. A large wall of props for instance, which included giant plastic hammers, fake noses and ridiculous-looking wigs and hats. He rolled his eyes. They must be for any Laughers who came here to train. The addition of Laugh energy was ten times more powerful then Scream, but the concept was silly. _Funny_ monsters? He made up his mind to leave right after Becca had auditioned. Watching monsters make complete utter fools of themselves was not how he wanted to spend the rest of the morning.

The room was a tad crowded with the support audience consisting of about fifteen. The dozen others who were here for auditions had gathered over by the simulator, with Becca among them. Sullivan was speaking to the group now while the rest of the room took their seats in the viewing area. It was tightly-packed, right behind the simulator's control station. It also happened to be right in Sullivan's line of sight, so Randall claimed a spot in the back, lest the blue bear spot him.

To his annoyance, Fungus was sitting here, too. "Hello, Ran—uh, Zach." Fungus said, almost forgetting to use Randall's fake identity.

"Why are you here?" Randall demanded.

"W—well, my cousin is trying out, too. He asked if I'd be an audience member so he'd be less-stressed about the whole thing." Fungus pointed to the other three-eyed, chicken-legged monster. "I noticed Becca is here, too." He sighed with pity. "It must be rough for her. How is she doing these days? I know it must be hard ever since her sister died. I haven't seen Becca in weeks, so of course I just thought I would ask you, since you're always hanging out with your other banished friends—ah!" Fungus flinched in his seat when Randall glared sharply.

Sometimes a quick glare was the only way to shut up the blabbering monster. But Randall answered honestly, "This is the first time she's left Bernard's place in weeks. She doesn't even want to sneak out to Iceland to visit Suzie's grave." He spoke in a lower tone when mentioning this, since the Iceland door was one he'd constructed in secret. He straightened in his seat to watch the group of auditioning monsters. This elaborate plan of getting Becca out of her not-quite-depressed stupor was sure to work. "We're all trying to snap her out of it, so she'd better not mess this up. Or else I did all that snooping around for nothing."

After yet another motivational speech, Sullivan ushered the dozen candidates into a side-room, presumably for a group interview. That would take a while to get through, and Randall's limited patience was already wearing out. The concentration required to maintain his disguise was starting to become draining. He wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer _. I'll have to sneak away at some point for a breather.._.So he looked about the room for a nearby place where no one would notice—just then, another dreaded, familiar monster butted his way into the viewing area.

The popular Mike Wazowski seemed to know a lot of monsters in the audience. He greeted some of them, shaking hands and smiling, that sort of thing, before looking for an empty chair. "Hi there, folks! Never fear, the great Laugher Mikey is here!...Hey, good to see you again; isn't your sister trying out today? Hope it goes well…Hi, Josh! You are you supporting?...Yeah, Sulley's been planning this thing for days…"

Randall shifted in the back uncomfortably. _Well, this is just perfect._ Wazowski was coming this way. _What does he think this is, a sports match?_ The one-eyed cyclops ended up in a seat on Fungus' other side, which meant bad news. Ever since that conversation in the foyer with the receptionist, Randall had been careful to steer clear. _Just keep quiet and hopefully he won't recognize you._

"Hey, Fungus," Wazowski greeted as he sat down. He looked over and noticed the cranberry-red, bespectacled lizard in the next seat. Perfect! Now was his change for an inconspicuous interrogation. "Hm. It's _Zachariah_. Right?" Mike emphasized the fake name. The lizard nodded, but made no other response, so he pressed on, "It's been a while since we spoke. Tell me, where have you been all this time?"

"Uh—Mike, I've been wondering," Fungus interrupted nervously, knowing of Randall's wish to stay undercover. So he tried to direct the conversation elsewhere. "Uh—Has Sulley planned good tests for these new guys? You know, uh—for the auditions, I mean?"

"You bet he has!" said Mike, eager to brag. "It'll be great. This is his first group interview, and I know he's planned it to be more like a fun contest. The volunteers will be here soon; Sulley asked some of the new Laughers to come and really give the candidates a feel for the job; same for the Scarers. So this sounds like a good show, and I wouldn't miss it. He's has been telling me all about this for the past week! If I hear any more of it, I could probably run the show instead. Oh! By the way, Zach," Wazowski became very serious all of a sudden. He looked directly at the disguised Randall. "You can drop the act."

Randall and Fungus glanced at one another discreetly, with 'Zach' acting normal, but internally panicking. Did Wazowski suspect who he was?

"I know you from somewhere; I'm sure of it!" Wazowski elaborated, trying to get the lizard to talk. "Are you _sure_ we haven't met before? Pulled a college prank on me? Come to any class Scare lectures?"

Randall fought to stay calm. He answered in the French accent. "Non; Je suis desole. Can't say that I have."

There was the tiniest hint of frustration on Wazowski's face. So, the cyclops was either confused about why 'Zach' looked familiar, or… _he knew_. Randall had trouble concentrating on keeping the cranberry-red scales after that. At least Fungus was between them and it was bit dark in this section of the viewing platform. That was the only thing helping him to stay hidden in plain sight.

…

The coaching auditions ended up being very entertaining. They started with the Scare coaches and it was just like watching a Scare demonstration all those years ago at college. The only difference was these monsters were far better than mere college students. As Randall watched, he realized they had had some experience. They were all tough and commanding, perfectly capable of instructing the volunteers who played the parts of Scarers. One of the potential candidates was a green, hulking, fang-toothed monster who could easily be a Scarer himself. The guy ordered volunteers about like a military general, making for a very good show. The audience members even applauded.

Five other monsters also auditioned; some were terrible, talking to the volunteers as if they were kindergarteners. But others were better and nailed it like professionals.

When it came time for Becca's turn, Randall saw her stand up a little straighter. She put on the bossy and poised expression that he'd seen her wear a thousand times before. But something about her demeanor today seemed rather— _forced_. It was as if she was performing in a play.

He also noticed Sullivan taking notes over on the sidelines. Some of the coaches he seemed to approve of, but others not so much. When Becca took her turn at auditioning, she was just like her old self. The lion-maned Scarer she was assigned to 'coach' was quite intimidated by her authority. But the stranger followed her advice on performing a more potent sneak scare, which seemed to impress Sullivan. He made a note on his clipboard while nodding in approval.

Once all the potential Scare coaches had finished, Sullivan told who he wanted to stay for the next round. "…Peregrine, O'Brian, Custard, and McKeen. Congratulations! You're all through for round two. Individual interviews will be happening at the very end of these auditions, but you're free to take a break for the time being," Sullivan turned to the remainder of the group. "Now, on to the Laugh coaches!"

Randall had no interest in watching monsters teaching other monsters to act like clowns. Neither did Becca, apparently, for she came over to the viewing area for a quick word with Randall. "I heard that James Sullivan and some other guy came up with the whole Laugh energy concept," she said, watching as the volunteers were instructed on various comedy routines—one of them even carried an actual banana cream pie for a volunteer to shove into their own face. "Are these positions always so competitive? It's not exactly hard, telling other workers what to do if they forget how to be scary. Or funny."

"Yeah, very competitive. This is a big factory, and they won't let just anyone come here. How are you holding up?" Randall asked, worried that her moodiness would make things difficult.

She groaned. "Ugh; this is taking so long! After going through all these tests, I think I'd rather scrub toilets." She watched as a squid-like monster told corny stand-up jokes to the human dummy in the simulator. They weren't having much effect at making it laugh. "This seriously can't be a real test; Suzie's jokes were way funnier." Without another word or even looking at Randall, she abruptly returned to the simulator sidelines to wait for the next round.

"What's wrong with her, sir?" Fungus had noticed Becca's temperament during times she wasn't in the simulator, acting the part of a coach. She was being tough, but nice enough to be tolerable, and sounded confident when she spoke. But when sitting on the sidelines, she would go quiet and not make eye contact with anyone. It was like shyness, which confused Fungus about her behavior. "Is she OK? In the Human World, she used to threaten to clobber me all the time."

"Ever since Suzie died, she's been acting funny. It's not exactly depression, but Bernard, Naomi and I are hoping it won't turn into that." Randall frowned while watching Becca pace around anxiously. "If she does well in this, having something to do will help her for the better. I hope."

This statement surprised Fungus. Over the past few weeks, the change in the former Scarer had been subtle, but now it was becoming more present. The Randall he had known would never in a million years have done anything to help someone else. Fungus though it was a sign that perhaps Randall was turning over a new leaf. He went on, "Well, I hope Becca doesn't go back to being so…well, _temperamental_ is the best way to put it, sir. When you and Suzie were lost in Europe, and I had to sneak out to your friends' campsite, she would brandish a shotgun at me! Every single time! There were times when I was more scared of her then you, sir."

Randall was about to argue, but realized Fungus had a point. Becca's temper was far worse than his own. "Can't say I blame you. Sometimes she and I would argue over nothing, just for the fun of it…now, it's weird, with her so quiet all the time. Do you know Naomi keeps trying to bribe her to put those photo albums into storage? Won't take no for an answer. So Becca threw one of her moody tantrums and Bernard had to step in before things got ugly."

"Really? What happened?" Fungus asked. He and Randall went on chatting as the Laugh auditions continued.

But unnoticed by them, two other monsters were watching closely. From the other side of the room, they spied with suspicion on 'Zachariah Brennen.'.

Some audience members had gotten up to leave when their friends or family had finished auditioning. Mike Wazowski was one of these, but instead of leaving, he hurried over to his best friend to share a few thoughts. That whole time sitting in the viewing area, he had side-glanced at that lizard. His whole appearance—the glasses, vest, hardhat, even the French accent—were a very good disguise. Even four of his limbs were invisible. It was so convincing that it only confirmed Mike's hypothesis; that _had_ to be Randall Boggs.

Once Mike had hurriedly informed Sulley, the blue-furred monster frowned at the cranberry-red lizard talking to Fungus. "You sure that's him?" He tried to picture the stranger with purple scales and extra arms and legs. "I guess there are some similarities…"

"Oh, that's him, alright. I've positive, Sulley!" Mike insisted. "I keep seeing him in the hallways, trying to throw us off the trail. Why else would he be walking around like that? He even puts on an accent when I talk to him."

"Guilt, maybe? Regret?" Sulley wasn't nearly as worried. "Mike, the stories in the papers could be true. Maybe he really did survive out there with other banished monsters. And even though I haven't seen him yet, Randall hasn't caused any trouble here, from what the managers have told me."

"I'm not buying it. I gotta trick him into dropping that disguise; break his concentration somehow. No one fools Mike Wazowski right under his nose…" Ignoring Sulley's laid-back attitude, he returned to the viewing area. It looked like the maintenance worker was about to leave. He had gotten up and was walking towards the doors, so Mike hurried to catch up to him and Fungus. "Hey there, Zach! I never asked: what brings you to these auditions, anyway?" He then turned to Jeffery Fungus to ask abruptly, "Do you know this guy, Fungus?"

"Uh—y—yes. I've known Zach for ages." Fungus stammered.

Randall fought the urge to punch the spluttering monster in the face, glasses or not. He spoke to Wazowski still using the French accent. _Just keep it up and concentrate._ "My friend is one of those trying out for a Coach position. I just came to wish her luck."

"I see…So, where'd you meet her?"

Randall thought fast. "We've been friends for a while; I met her on a camping trip." That was a weird answer, but also sort of true; they _had_ met out in the wilderness of the Human World. And his campsite _had_ been close to the others'. "Becca is a bit on the unpredictable side, but I think she'd be a good fit for the job."

Fungus was quivering slightly, afraid of a confrontation of some sort. Neither he nor Randall knew of Mike's suspicions, so they kept playing along with the ruse. It looked like Mike was becoming annoyed, though, and it made them wonder.

"When exactly was this, _Zach_?" Mike pressed on. "Background checks have to be done on all the new recruits around here, and I just so happen to be the CEO's right-hand man. So no fibbing, OK?"

"Je comprends. But I've told you the truth." Randall said firmly. He again turned to leave the simulator room. "Je suis desole, but I have to be getting back to work. One of the Laugh Floors has got another door station glitch that I have to work on."

He shot Fungus a warning glare. The nervous, chicken-legged monster was sure to say something that would blow his cover. To his chagrin, the guy went on talking to Wazowski, who appeared to be berating him with more questions. Fungus was stammering something, so Randall decided to just get out of here. Sullivan was on the far side of the room, busy talking to the group of potential coaches. So the disguised lizard slipped out of the room unseen by anyone else.

…

In the hallway, he marched with frustration building up inside; it was hard to calm down and maintain concentration. _Everything was going so well_! Becca was finally out and about, and that was an important step for her well-being. Suzie being gone was all his fault…that nightmare he had had only solidified that belief, but he certainly couldn't bring that up to anyone. He tried to think about the big picture…even Bernard and Naomi still had some adjusting to do, now that they were all back where they belonged. Compared to what he and his friends were going through, having Sullivan and Wazowski around to contend with _really_ wasn't that big of a deal…so with that in mind, Randall became more relaxed.

He was walking through the carpeted corridors of the factory, heading back to the Floors for some more work before lunchtime. It was pretty quiet in these halls; not many monsters were around. But something out of the corner of his eye made him pause…

A small figure with royal-blue scales was standing in the adjacent corridor. It was far off, way down at the very end so Randall almost didn't notice. It was faint, almost like a shadow, and he was certain it was a monster…he stood still to look at it, and blinked to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

But the figure vanished when he opened his eyes.

 _Just the nightmare aftereffects, I guess…_ he decided. But the quick sighting left him a bit unnerved. He resumed walking, now moving a bit faster than before.

…

The weird glitch on Laugh Floor D had caused a station to freeze up just as a door was being lowered. This left the door stuck in mid-air, leaving everyone baffled. The problem was easy to fix, but also time-consuming, keeping Randall busy until lunchtime. There was no sign of Wazowski here, so he was free to be himself for the time being. As he worked on the broken station he thought hard about the close encounter with that cyclops. All those questions made him wonder if Wazowski knew and was just trying to get him to confess. Or maybe trick him into breaking concentration while he had been in disguise. The whole scenario was making Randall extremely paranoid. Every two seconds he checked over his shoulder, just to be sure Wazowski or Sullivan weren't coming onto the Floor. All the noise around here wasn't making it easy, either.

As Randall worked on the door station, all the Laughers went about their own routines. Making human kids laugh sounded a lot harder than scaring them. It was easy being scary; all he had had to do in the past was materialize out of thin air, poised on the wall like a gecko and wearing an evil grin. It worked every time. Human kids always feared him! Now, Randall looked on at the Laughers in disgust. They were all over the room, practicing clown tricks, stand-up routines, and funny magic acts. Confetti exploded in the air every now and then, which was very distracting. _How can they act like this? We're monsters, for crying out loud!_ But he kept his opinion to himself. If this absurdity produced more power, so be it. All he had to do was tolerate the chaos. At least Scaring hadn't been replaced.

The noise also made it hard to hear voices; so he had to squint at the Laugh Floor entrance to ensure that his old rivals didn't appear. The next hour passed by without incident—except for the moment when a soccer ball whacked him in the head. The Laugher apologized, but ran away in terror upon seeing Randall's livid expression.

He finished up the door station so that it worked again; albeit a bit slower compared to the others. _We should really check all of them. If they keep breaking down like this, there must be something wrong with the entire system._ Another ball came flying his way and he ducked so that it hit another monster nearby. Randall had just about had it with this room. _That's it; I'm outta here. Becca should be finished with that solo interview by now, anyway._

So he left the Floor to find a secluded spot to put on his disguise again. On went the glasses, hardhat, tool vest, and four limbs went invisible as his scales altered to cranberry red. Once he was ready, he began the trek back to the simulator and training rooms. In order to get there, he needed to go through the vast foyer. He crossed every finger—including the invisible ones—that all was clear. But it wasn't. Although the foyer was pretty crowded with monsters, he spied some unwanted faces.

He peered through his glasses to see Wazowski talking with the receptionist at her desk. The couple was so deep in their lovesick conversation that Randall could probably stroll right past without them even noticing. But he kept his distance, anyway. It never hurt to be too careful. As he casually went by, Wazowski and Celia Mae both looked over at him through the throngs of other travelling monsters. Randall did not stop walking, but took note of their gazes: ones of intense suspicion, or was it mild anger? He couldn't tell. It was hard to pinpoint… _Uh oh. Do they_ both _know it's really me under all this?_

He avoided further eye contact and hurriedly went to the mens' locker rooms. Maybe his disguise had faltered without him realizing.

It wasn't completely empty in the locker rooms. There were a few monsters who said 'hello,' thinking they were speaking to 'Zachariah Brennen.' In reality, it was only a slightly freaked-out Randall trying to get a moment alone.

He checked on the disguise in the mirrors over the sinks. "Whew…this is getting harder…" He whispered to no one as he returned to his normal self. Nobody was around. He took off the vest and other accessories, just in case anyone walked around the corner. It really did feel like breathing again, going back to normal.

He splashed some water on his face. It was refreshing and would help to clear his head. "I've just about had it with all his hiding! Wazowski knows it's me! And Rex is bound to figure it out, the way he sneaks out of daycare all the time. And with Becca here, the whole venture is pointless…Monsters will ask how she knows me, and where she's from. No doubt Sullivan has figured out she was banished, too…"

He took a single glance at his tired reflection before splashing more water on his face. He kept on talking to himself. "OK, that's it. No more hiding! Who cares what everyone thinks? I resolved to prove anyone can change, didn't I? Seems counterproductive when I'm pretending to be a completely different monster."

He stood up straight, almost relieved by the thought of not having to—he inhaled sharply as his thoughts were cut off.

There was a second reflection, standing behind his own, that made his blood freeze.

Suzie was in the mirror.

In that split second, he forgot everything—where he was, what had happened today, why he was here—all he could do was stare right back.

The moment was short. He instantly spun around to face her. Or whoever was playing this sick prank. That was what it had to be—!

But there was nobody there. All of the bathroom stalls were empty, no other monsters were around. Randall didn't even hear other voices; only the sound of his rapid heartbeat and panting breath. It was lucky no one had witnessed his reaction. It took several minutes to register how hard his hands were gripping the sink countertop.

He kept his back to the mirror, afraid of looking again. Suzie's image had been just like in the nightmare: cold, dead eyes, a sad air, and her fatal injuries still present. But he was only imagining it…he had to be! The bizarre sightings wherever he went were really bothering him, now. "I'm just imagining her…all part of a guilty conscience. That's all!"

But the incident left him alarmed. He acted like nothing was wrong as he went to his locker to put away his glasses and other gear. "There's nothing to be afraid of…nothing whatsoever to be afraid of…" he mumbled. But he still checked around every corner nervously. Suddenly the thought of walking around disguise-free wasn't so bad. He had to get out of these tiled rooms. Or else more disturbing images might pop into view…

Right when he exited into the busy corridor, he found Becca leaning against the wall. "There you are. I've been waiting around out here for you." She saw his normal, purple-scaled and scarred appearance. "So, you've finally ditched the getup? Good. You looked like a geeky moron with it."

"Uh—thanks." He glanced around, hoping not to see any more strange sightings. The corridor was bustling with monsters from all over the factory going about their days, with no imaginary Suzie among them.

"You alright?" Becca asked as they began walking, noticing his behavior.

"Just—nervous, I guess. I think Sullivan and Wazowksi know who I am. I ran into one of them in the simulator room, and I'm just worried they'll try to gang up on me, that's all."

"Considering how long they've known you, that wouldn't be a surprise." Becca shrugged. "I thought you should know, Sulllivan asked me back for a second interview in a couple of days. This really is like a competition; three other monsters got callbacks, too. I guess the big guy has to narrow it down some more."

"Really? That's good news. So, are you going to go? Because I distinctly remember you saying you'd rather scrub toilets."

"Hey, that was just a sarcastic joke." She frowned. Other than that, she was still pretty neutral. She still didn't seem to care about what was happening, but was going through the process, anyway. "To be honest, bossing total strangers around sounds a hell of a lot better. Besides…" she paused. "At breakfast the other day, you guys really got me thinking maybe you're right. I can't just sit around Bernard's house all the time. Those photo albums only remind me that Suzie is…you know...But Bernard said I needed a distraction, so I'll go to the second interview and see what happens."

That made Randall reassured that he had done the right thing in trying to help her. And the fact that she hadn't lost her temper was a good sign. Or maybe not? Becca's temper was a part of her personality; he almost enjoyed a good, hearty argument now and then. I _t'd be good to have someone around the factory who doesn't hate me._

"Listen up, Genius," Becca said in her old, bossy way. "Apparently working here is a big deal; I heard it's the biggest Scream production place around—er, Scream and Laugh production, now. And you went to a lot of trouble for me, finding out about the openings here, and all…So thank you."

' _Thank you?' Wow, she still has a long way to go._ Randall knew she was never this polite.

All thoughts of telling her of the frightening imaginings left him. He couldn't very well bring _that_ up; Becca had almost given a faint hint of a smile just now. She was beginning to make progress in her healing. Talking about her dead sister, the strange sightings, the nightmare, and making things worse was the last thing Randall wanted to do…So he said nothing.

French Translations:

 _Je suis desole_ —I'm sorry

 _Je comprends_ —I understand

 **Up next: Now that he's really seeing things, Randall wonders if he's really going nuts. Also, lots of cliffhangers. :)**


	7. Just a Normal Day?

**It's December 25th! Merry Christmas! :D It's been a great month, celebrating not only the holidays, but also the new Star Wars movie. lol. Lots of things happen in this part (including a Roz cameo) so here is a nice, long chapter for you to enjoy. Here, Randall finally runs into Mike after so much time avoiding him, plus, his hallucinations become far more serious. Hope you like it!**

Chapter Six: Just a Normal Day?

That weekend would have been fun had Randall not spent it with the feeling of pins and needles inside. The inner turmoil coupled with the vision of Suzie in the mirror had made him wary. He certainly didn't want to admit that he was seeing things; not to _anyone_. Having to face old foes at the factory was just about all he could handle right now.

The weekend was full of distractions, at least. To celebrate the success of Becca's first job interview, Bernard took the four of them out to Lugosi Cove for a day of boating and beach-going. Sunday afternoon was a memorable one for the former outcasts. Bernard used one of his family's boats: a beautiful white vessel that was more like a miniature yacht, perfect for cruising around on the water. Apart from the fleet of fishing vessels for the business, the Brennens also had a selection of recreational crafts to choose from.

Bernard personally piloted the thing and at one point offered the wheel to Naomi. She was excited beyond belief and powered it to full speed in an instant. It was a new experience, even though the sea wind tousled up her perfectly coiffed lavender hair, she didn't mind, for the thrill of it all made her laugh. Bernard obviously loved being out on the water, too. He was a natural on this sea craft, and knew where all the best sightseeing spots were. But much of the boating trip he spent talking to Becca.

She was uncharacteristically quiet. Again.

Ever since her Scare Coach audition, her mood _had_ improved, but she returned to her forlorn ways with each day that passed. Being a part-aquatic monster, she was always keen on water, so she managed to perk up a little the more Bernard spoke to her. His gentle, fatherly tone coaxed her out of her shell eventually.

As for Randall, he managed to forget about his own troubles after seeing how well things were going for everyone else. That disturbing hallucination of Suzie had not been told to a soul and he made decided to dismiss it as a figment of his own imagination. They were all out here, having fun, and it wouldn't do to bring that up _now_ , of all times.

Once, he caught Becca gazing wistfully out over the water when the boat came to a halt in Lugosi Cove. This had to be rough for her, he realized; perhaps this was a bad spot to come to. She and Suzie had often gone to this cove to swim and surf in the waves…It must be bringing up many memories, now that she had finally returned to it. All without her sister…Randall felt an unbelievable pity for her as well as his own guilt rising up…But Becca snapped out of the sad gaze on her own, and tried to focus on the fun day with the rest of them.

The afternoon was spent speeding around the Cove just for the fun of it, catching the waves and letting the salt water spray them. The four friends had a chance to unwind, laugh, talk and enjoy each other's' company. The spring sunshine was warm and glistened off the water like a picture, with the skyline of Monstropolis and the port still visible. Since the fishing grounds were nearby, the outcasts went sailing off in the opposite direction, out to find a wilder shoreline. So the city eventually morphed into leafy trees and hills to remind the monsters of times long gone, but in a good way. Getting away from civilization was refreshing for a change.

Randall was glad for everyone to get outside and away from all of their problems. Even if was just for a little while.

But as soon as the weekend neared its end, all of his fears came rushing back.

Early on Monday morning, Randall climbed down from the backyard tree extra early. He hadn't gotten much sleep because of more nightmares. As per usual, Sam had scolded last evening about the tree-sleeping habit, and as usual, Randall went on with the routine. Sleeping thirty feet off the ground felt very comforting right about now. Two particularly bad nightmares had kept him awake much of the night, though. One about facing his rivals who promptly banished him again, and another about Suzie falling to her death on board a cargo ship. They had been very graphic and terribly upsetting…After that last one, he doubted he'd be able to get any more rest.

The sun wasn't even up as he went into the house. All was quiet inside, for Rex and Sam were still asleep. Good. A bit of quiet was just what he needed.

The hard, wooden windowseat in the kitchen was always a prime thinking spot, but he had an urge to pace around the floor instead. _OK. Today is the day you've been dreading._ He thought, pulling at his fronds anxiously. The raw determination he processed began arguing viciously with the voice of conscience in his head, going back and forth relentlessly…

 _I swore I'd drop the disguise! It won't work anymore, anyway. Not if they know I'm somewhere in the factory._

 _But they'll come looking for you, regardless. What will you do then? Run and hide like a coward?_

 _I am no coward._

 _Then just go about your day as if it's completely normal. Nothing bad is going to happen. Fungus will back you up; you've actually been getting along lately, and even if he doesn't, Bernard, Naomi and Becca will help you if you do end up getting tossed through a door._

 _Thanks, conscience, I feel so much better…_ Randall rolled his eyes with sarcasm as he paced. _Becca has that final interview today, too. If Sullivan sees you, there is no doubt he'll do that…with Wazowski egging him on, to boot._

 _No. That won't happen. It's illegal now, and you haven't done anything_ _wrong since you returned from the Human World, right?_

"I hope not…" Randall went over the last few weeks in his head, trying to think of any incidents where he had caused trouble. All of those door stations breaking down were keeping him busy, but those were hardly his fault. There was that secret door that led out into the wild highlands of Iceland; a door he had constructed in a rush with Fungus' help. The purpose of it was only to visit Suzie's grave; going out to see her from time to time and pay respects. That wasn't causing trouble for anyone, was it?

"I really hope not…" He hadn't done anything worthy of banishment again, right? There was _nothing_ to worry about. Nothing whatsoever…But Randall still felt his heart beat painfully with nerves. He finally sat down in the windowseat and picked up one of the Spanish dictionaries for some language studying; a break to improve his mind and calm down from the anxiety.

…

Hours later, after tolerating a chaotic morning with Sam making a mess of the kitchen and Rex whining about breakfast, Randall found himself strolling down the street like nothing was amiss today. He dreaded what was to happen, but how on earth was he to get out of this one? He couldn't.

Becca and Naomi were both accompanying him, since they were going in the same direction anyway. With Becca's final interview on her mind, she was being very quiet. She walked with her head down, feelers drooping, not really noticing her surroundings. Naomi, on the other hand, was waltzing happily a step ahead, trying to engage her friends in conversation with mixed success. She was dressed in yet another nauseating pink outfit today, acting more cheerful than usual. In fact, Naomi was so cheery that Randall and Becca didn't know how much more of her mindless chitchat they could handle.

"…So that run-in with Crystal and Carrie ended up being waaaay more tense then I wanted it to be," Naomi was saying. "It started off perfectly harmless, and then it somehow led to my banishment and how I've become a criminal, and so they started _scolding_ me for trying to fit into society again. Can you believe it? _Scolding_ me! Let me tell you, things got pretty heated…"

Becca frowned and crossed her arms. She whispered up into Randall's ear. "How much longer is this going to go on? She's used so many run-on sentences in the last five minutes I could kick her."

He groaned. "You know how she is; nothing will stop her once she gets going. Don't worry; the factory's only another block away." It was good to see a spark of Becca's old temper again, though.

Naomi kept on talking as they neared the crosswalk. "…then Crystal said, 'You're impossible,' so I shot back, 'No, you're impossible! You have no idea what I've been through! All those crazy stunts, the cross-country adventures, losing a friend—'oh! Sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned that." she spun around to look at Becca, worried it may have upset her.

Becca only shrugged without another hint of emotion. Outwardly, the mention of her dead sister didn't seem to bother her. But Naomi and Randall weren't so sure that was true.

The morning rush hour was well underway. Cars of all sizes and styles zoomed back and forth along the streets. A couple of car horns were heard, with some of the modified ones sounding like a lion's roar or nails on a chalkboard. Many pedestrians were on the sidewalk, too. Winged monsters were even flying their way along on their morning routines. At the crosswalk, there was already a group of monsters gathered waiting for the light to change. This was where Naomi turned the corner to go down the next block.

"I'll see you guys later!" she waved goodbye as she went on her way. "I've got a busy day ahead, so wish me luck!"

"Good luck for what?" Randall called before she got far. "Where are you going every morning, anyway?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Hey, I've got an idea!" Naomi's face lit up. "Why don't you come down to the new café later? I'll call Bernard to come, too. We'll call it another celebration, like the boating trip was."

"Not making any promises, but fine. We'll be there at noon, if we can." Randall and Becca joined the group of pedestrians crossing the street. He suddenly got to thinking. _Hmm…Maybe I can talk to Bernard about all these weird nightmares…or maybe that's not such a good idea. I can't have them all thinking I'm crazy._

A subject as sensitive as the Suzie nightmares and wide-awake imaginings wouldn't be easy. He wanted to keep it quiet and forget about it…But _if_ he saw any more sightings today, he'd give the idea more thought. In the meantime, he tried to make Becca a bit more enthusiastic about her own daily plans. "So, you're meeting with Sullivan this morning; this final interview should go well. After watching all the other tryouts during those auditions—"

"Quit trying to be positive, Randall. You're not very good at it." Becca snapped. The she quickly apologized. "I'm sorry…I'm just nervous, that's all."

"Since when do you get nervous?" He tried to get her involved in conversation as they walked up to the factory doors, but she just wasn't very chatty right now. She only walked numbly into the giant, echoing foyer. Her eel-like forest green tail dragged, looking as miserable as she felt.

The place was already busy with monsters, but not too badly. Through the light traffic, Randall looked over at the reception desk. Good. No sign of Wazoweski or Sullivan yet; just the snake-haired receptionist. They often stopped to greet her before starting work, but right now, it was only Celia Mae who spotted him. Randall tensed up with nerves instantly. This was the first time she had seen him without the disguise…Her expression was hard to pinpoint; surprise was the best guess.

The inner arguments started again as Randall stared right back. _She'll probably tell those two the moment they get here of my whereabouts. Better start the disappearing act._

 _No. You promised you wouldn't do that anymore. Just stop being so paranoid and go about your day._

 _Grrr…OK, fine! But this is not going to be easy._

Becca stated she was off to the factory's upper floors and offices for her interview. "I'll see you later, I guess. Unless I get bored waiting around for the head hauncho to show up."

"See you later, then." He replied. When she left towards the elevator, Randall began his own journey off to the locker rooms. Celia Mae watched him wide-eyed as he passed, as if she couldn't believe what she was really seeing. So in response, he gave a solemn nod of recognition and went on his way. _Just act normal and you'll be fine._

…

The morning _was_ more or less normal. Randall did the daily maintenance routine of safety checks on the Floors, which took him throughout many areas of the factory. As he went about the chores, disguise-free and wearing a Monsters, Inc. hardhat, co-workers either eyed him with suspicion, or else completely ignored him. That was better than having monsters gang up on him, but he still didn't like it. It felt like everybody in the universe was judging.

Later, when he entered Laugh Floor A to begin work on the latest door station breakdown, the noise level seemed to go down a few decibels upon his arrival. A few monsters actually took a few deliberate steps away from him.

 _Well, this is fun. Great welcoming party._ Randall thought as he carried a tool box over to the broken station. _The newspaper stories must really be circulating by now. I bet everyone in the factory is suspicion of where I've been the last two years. I sure hope they haven't figured out the truth…_

The giant clamp that latched onto the doors to lower them was acting haywire. It rose up and down consistently, never all the way, making the station quite a hazard. The Laugher and assistant who had been here had already relocated, so Randall got straight to the job without intrusion. He got down on the floor to open the control panel; it was the only way to search for anything wrong with the electrical system. To better see, he fished his glasses out of the tool box, and instantly the room became less blurry. All of the practical jokes the Laughers were practicing made it difficult to concentrate, though. Every five minutes, a plate smashed, a soccer ball would fly by, or some stupid sound rang out, like a whoopee cushion or other such nonsense. Randall shook his head at it all in disapproval as he starting tinkering around with the machinery.

Jeffery Fungus managed a few of the factory's Laugh Floors. Today he could be seen walking around, carrying a clipboard and stopping to chat with a few Laugh assistants. (All while wearing another hideously printed necktie.) He noticed Randall at work on the broken station and came over after a while to check on the progress.

"Hello, sir," Fungus greeted, not stuttering as usual. His initial fear of Randall Boggs had worn off a bit, so he was not nervous in approaching. "Any chance you'll have that station fixed by lunchtime?"

"Not sure," Randall remained on the floor, a few tools in his multiple hands. "I think one of the wires is fried; hopefully nothing too serious. But I'll need time, so be patient, already!"

This surprised Fungus. Out of all monsters, Randall was extremely impatient, and here he was, telling others to be so. Ironic.

"You haven't seen Sullivan or Wazowski today, have you?" Randall demanded before Fungus left. He just had to know where those two were so he could avoid them.

"Uh…o—over there," Fungus reluctantly pointed down at the far end of the room.

Randall peered through his glasses to see Wazowski rehearsing a stand-up comedy routine with an assistant. The one-eyed cyclops was hard at work, acting like a clown, far away on the other end of the Floor. He wouldn't bother Randall. For now, at least.

So Randall went on working with a sigh of relief. Since he was sitting on the floor, he was less noticeable and able to make repairs at a steady pace. The problem with the station ended up being more complex then he realized. So he was able to ignore all the laughter, jokes, and circus routines for quite a long while. Time passed quickly once he got more involved with repairs. Eventually he got the lever-clamp to stop moving, but there was still the problem of getting it to lower all the way back down to the station. He always liked solving problems with machinery. This one distraction even made him forget about the fact that a rival was nearby.

But in the few minutes before the lunch whistle blew, Randall was finally forced to face what he most dreaded.

While replacing the wires in the open control box, a terrible, familiar voice spoke to him from behind. "So you really are back…"

Randall's expression remained neutral as he turned around slowly. Mike Wazowski stood there, arms hanging limp and his one big eye locked in an expression of pure shock. Randall nodded slowly, just once, to confirm Wazowski's words, and turned back to the open control panel. Wazowksi, however, didn't leave.

"But—how?" said the flabbergasted cyclops. "I thought we were rid of you forever."

"Well, too bad Wazowski; I'm back and here to stay this time." The lizard replied firmly and tried to dismiss him. "This station is one of the more glitchy ones, so if you'll excuse me?"

"I have questions, Randall," Wazowski persisted, still in surprise. "How did you get back? Is everything the newspapers have been saying true? Did all those things really happen?"

"Yes. Why do you care?" Randall stood up tall in defiance. He crossed his arms and gave his old evil-eye glare to appear more intimidating.

Mike wasn't deterred. "Well come _on_ , Randall; Sulley and I threw you through a door into God-knows-where two years ago without thinking you'd ever show up here again. I mean, what happened? You didn't _really_ meet other banished monsters out there, did you? And is it true that one of them died out there?"

"Yes."

The stern 'yes' wasn't what Mike expected. "These are awfully short answers. Care to expand on them?"

"No. I don't want to talk about it." Randall's temper was starting to get the better of him, but he kept it under control. "Now, go away so I can finish this." He gestured at the door station. As an afterthought, he added an abrupt, "Please."

Wazwoski's single eye went even wider. This interrogation really wasn't going the way he had envisioned. There so many questions he wanted answers to, so he pressed on. "When I first met you as 'Zach Brennen,' I had a feeling I'd seen you somewhere before. A clever trick, but why go to all that trouble? Was it just so you could avoid the law; avoid getting into _more_ trouble?"

"The law cleared my name." Randall stood up straighter, glaring down at him in annoyance. "And for your information, Wazowski, the whole disguise charade was to avoid you and Sullivan. You think I _want_ to head back out there and fight for survival all over again?"

"From the looks of you, I say you did a pretty swell job of it…" Wazowski noticed just how _many_ scars the lizard was bearing. A massive patch of scar tissue on Randall's abdomen was the most apparent. "How many alligators did you have to kill to get all those?"

"Not all are from gators," Randall explained. "Some are courtesy of bears, cougars, gunshots or just plain old tree-climbing. See this one?" he pointed to the long scar that ran across his face. "Day one. Courtesy of you and Sullivan. A woman hit me in the face with a shovel; it would have been funny had I not been chased out into the wilderness to fend for myself immediately after."

"Well, it served you right." Wazowksi said without much sympathy. "Sulley and I will both be keeping an eye on you. Just don't try to build more creepy machines in secret labs of the factory like you did last time. And don't use me as a test subject, got it?"

Randall frowned, arms still crossed. "I'm past that. Just do me a favor, Wazowski: you and Sullivan stay the hell away from me and we'll all get along just fine."

The two had a staring contest of sorts for a few seconds. But it was broken by a monster who approached them from the Floor's entrance. She had seen Randall from afar and quickly walked over to stop any further argument. Although Randall was sure if she had been in his place, she would've wanted to put up a fight.

Becca must have come down from the upper floors and come searching for him. "What's going on here?" she said. She looked at Mike and took an immediate guess as to who he was. "Ah, you must be Michael Wazoosie; or however you pronounce your last name. Hi; Mr. Sullivan told me about you." She then turned to Randall. "It's almost lunch time; you ready to go, Genius?"

Randall glanced at the clock on the Laugh board; time had passed by much quicker then he thought. He managed to speak in a perfectly normal, casual voice as he answered. "Oh yes, I'm more than ready to go." And then he left with her, leaving Wazowski standing there in a confused stupor.

Mike watched the former Scarer walk off the Laugh Floor as if the conversation had never happened. Randall didn't even look back to cast another glare of hatred. The behavior was a bit surprising.

"Hey, Fungus!" Mike ran comically over to the red, bean-shaped monster. Fungus had been seen talking to the disguised Randall last week; perhaps he knew something. "Randall's name was one of the McKeen woman's references on her job application. How do those two know each other?"

Fungus looked up from his clipboard. "Oh, you don't know? Becca is one of the banished monsters he met. Quite a temper on her, that one."

"Huh. Now things are beginning to make a whole lot more sense…" Mike resolved to go tell Sulley about this as soon as possible.

…

"That sounded like fun; sorry I missed it." Becca said as they strolled the hallways.

"Well, it went smoother then I thought it would. I just hope—" Randall paused.

As they crossed the foyer, someone standing at the far end caught him off-guard. Randall thought he saw a royal-blue, scaly figure standing in front of the glass double-doors. Suzie...standing there with all of her fatal injuries and the saddest expression he'd ever seen. But she was just a shadow. She wasn't even completely solid! It was just like the numerous other times he'd spotted her in this factory. The sunlight did not even illuminate her, so she wasn't _really_ there…it was just an imagining.

But he and Becca were walking right towards her…he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the shadow-like monster to go away.

Becca wondered what was up when Randall hesitated. But he recovered quickly and she assumed it was only his nerves acting up again.

"Boy, you need to relax. You faced one of your old rivals and nothing bad happened, right? We all told you that you were worried for nothing." She pulled him by an arm across the foyer. "C'mon, Naomi's waiting for us and I can tell you all the news when Bernard shows up."

Randall looked up at the glass double-doors again. The unsettling sight of Suzie was gone. That was the last straw! He _had_ to tell someone about all this. That time, Suzie had looked more solid then before. The images were only getting more real the more they were ignored. And it was beginning to frighten him.

But he still said nothing, as he and Becca went down the block.

…

The new café everyone was talking about turned out to be a small restaurant, just down the street. Smells of delicious foods wafted out into the open air to lure in anyone who walked by. The windows of the place were big and inviting, and the illustrated sign over the entrance told the world what kind of establishment this was: a pancake house.

"Is she serious?" Becca raised an eyebrow at the painting of a coffee mug next to a stack of pancakes and waffles. "I pictured Naomi choosing a much classier place then this."

Randall was more optimistic. He had always been a lover of tasty food, so he tried not to judge. "Whatever they're making in there smells nice, though. Let's give it a chance."

"Ugh…Fine. But my standards are high." Becca begrudgingly went in when he held the door for her.

As expected, it was busy inside, this being a brand new place and all. Their grand opening only been a few days ago, and it was already a big hit. Nearly every table was full. The atmosphere inside reminded Randall of a down-to-earth kitchen: wooden chairs, white tablecloths, and décor that consisted of a mix of abstract art and oversized utensils on the walls. But the smell was the most enticing: freshly cooked omelets, muffins and pancakes all hung in the air, mixed with a sweet brown-sugar-type aroma. It was quite mouth-watering.

"Mmm…fresh pancakes," said Becca with a tiny smile. She took back her earlier remark. "OK, my standards are almost met. I bet they'll taste better than the ones Bernard feeds us in his backyard."

A waitress in a grey uniform and ruffled apron ushered them past the lineup, explaining that their group was already here. Randall and Becca followed her with confusion into the dining area, to find Bernard waiting for them. The older monster was already sitting comfortably in a corner booth. It was extra-large to fit his big gorilla-like frame, and he beckoned them over to join.

"There you two are," Bernard greeted. "Naomi reserved this whole booth for us, but I don't know where she is. She said she had some news to share, so it's a bit odd that she's late." He turned to Becca with happiness. "You're smiling! So, tell me, how did the meeting with James Sullivan go? Are you officially a Scare Coach?"

"Sorry. My lips are sealed until Naomi gets here. Then I don't have to explain twice." She quickly skimmed over the menu. Upon reading over so many weird, monstrous concoctions—things she was still getting used to after years of hunting for meals—she made a face. "Screw it. Just plain, simple pancakes for me. I've never even heard of 'Wobbegong-Eye Crepes.' What is it, anyway?"

Bernard shrugged, but Randall explained that it was actually a tasty, savory dish.

"I'll still have the plain stuff, anyway," Becca stood up. "Be right back. If Naomi decides to show up, you guys go ahead and—"

"—we'll order for you. Got it." Randall finished as she left towards the restrooms. A thought occurred to him: with her gone and Naomi running late, he could use this opportunity. He looked across the booth at Bernard. The older monster was the only one he could speak to about all the strange Suzie sightings. So without hesitation, Randall spoke up, "I've got to talk to you."

Bernard was drinking from a water glass, but put it down in a hurry. "It's rare when you request a private conversation. Must be serious, the way you're gripping the table."

Randall noticed all four of his three-fingered hands were clutching the table's edge like his life depended on it. "Uh—yeah. It's serious."

"Alright. Let's hear it, then. Did something happen at those coach auditions? If Becca snapped out of her depression and threw one of her tantrums at the CEO—"

"No, nothing like that. This is more personal. It's just—I've been having…nightmares, lately." Randall simplified. "A lot of nightmares; all of them very bad. And all of them about Suzie…about what happened to her."

Bernard's fearsome, toothy face softened with pity. He let out a long sigh of anguish. "She's only been gone a few months…even I have nightmares about her sometimes."

"Not like the ones I've been having, though. It's been getting pretty bad. So much that I think I'm…I might be losing it." Randall confessed that much. He wasn't sure if admitting to seeing a full apparition of Suzie was a wise move. A bout of conscience preventing the words from spilling out in panic. "I didn't want to mention anything in front of Becca. She's only just starting to recover from Suzie's death, so I can't go around saying I'm having nightmares about that day! They _had_ been ebbing off, but they're starting to return in full swing!"

"Calm down," Bernard shushed. He spoke in a quiet voice and leaned forward to whisper, lest any other monsters hear. "Randall, having a lot of nightmares is really no surprise. When you and Suzie got separated from the group, you two spent _months_ trying to find your way back to the swamps. Then the accident happened, you had to going into hiding to save her and…well, you know…" he trailed off sadly. "I wish we could all have been there, too. Perhaps things would have turned out differently."

"Yeah. I wish…"Randall leaned back with exhaustion at the memory.

"You went through more trauma during those times then the rest of us, being there when she died. So having nightmares…that's perfectly normal." Bernard said wisely. "If they persist, why don't you try talking to your brother? He's a counsellor and psychology teacher; he'll definitely know ways to help you cope."

Randall tossed that suggestion aside _. If I admit to Sam that I'm hallucinating, he'll think I'm insane!_ But he lied to Bernard, "Yeah…maybe I'll do that. But _only_ if it gets worse. I don't need my brother getting involved; he's a last resort, only."

Becca soon returned, surprised to find only two monsters, still, in the booth. Instead of a barrage of complaints, she just rolled her eyes and sat down without a word beside Randall.

The friends decided to wait a bit longer. If Naomi didn't show up soon, Randall would be late getting back to the factory. But he was good at weaseling out of minor scrapes, so he wasn't too worried. For a while, they all just watched the bustling activity of the pancake house. The tables were all full, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, eating, chatting, and laughing without a care in the world. If they only knew of the various conflicts within this one booth…Randall wished to speak to Bernard later on, when no others could listen in with prying ears.

Another waitress passed by their booth, one who was very familiar…she stopped with a tray of dirty dishes still in her clawed hands, and greeted them cheerily. "Hey, guys! So glad you're here!"

It was Naomi, dressed in one of the uniforms that all the waitress of this place had. The others were all shocked and just stared at her for a solid ten seconds. But this didn't break her mood. "Surprise! Lunch is on me. I'll bring you your orders, and mine, too. I'm just about ready for a break."

Becca was the first to recover. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"I know. Grey isn't the most exciting color, but it's alright. I can fit all kinds of snacks in these pockets! Wait right here; I'll join you in a sec."

"As if things couldn't get any weirder," Randall swallowed a chuckle. "Naomi Jackson, going from Scream Industries Scarer, to Pancake Server of a breakfast cafe."

Bernard also let out a small laugh. They expected Becca to say something more, but she just sat there with her head propped on her elbow. All the events of today really seemed to be wearing her out.

During this time, food was brought to the table: stacks of fresh pancakes, and bowls of colorful monstrous fruit. It was all so tempting that they all found it hard to wait. Naomi joined them a few minutes later, wearing a pink jacket over her ruffled-apron uniform. "I know what you're all going to say," she sat next to Bernard and began digging into her stack of pancakes. "'A waitress; that's quite the step back from being a Scarer.' But it's been a few days, and I'm starting to get the hang of it. Plus, I get a discount on food here. Mm…these are good. I swear, I will never complain about food again, after what we've all been through."

They all began eating, savoring every bite. They hadn't been out to a restaurant in the entire time since their return. They preferred the quiet company of each other to the hustle and bustle of a public place. But it was a nice occasion, not having to prepare it themselves.

Becca eventually broke out of her quiet stupor when Bernard asked her again about the interview with Sullivan. She looked up with a humble smile. "I start tomorrow." But her answer had no build-up, no visible enthusiasm at all. It was like she was discussing the weather.

"That's great!" said Naomi in congratulations. But Becca's fake smile faltered. "What's wrong? Aren't you excited?"

"I _am_ excited; I think….Maybe I am, deep down. It's just that Suzie…"she gazed out the window thoughtfully, trailing off in a lonely daydream.

They all clued in on what she meant to say. Here they all were, trying to begin new lives after banishment, and Suzie wasn't even here. Bernard tried to mend the situation. "Suzie deserved to return; more than any of us."

"I don't want to hear another sappy speech, Bernard."

"Let me finish, Becca. We _all_ miss her. And we always will. But you've been given a great opportunity, so don't let it go to waste, OK? She would want you to have a fresh start, so keep it up for her sake."

"Well…I'll try." Her words were unconvincing. So she turned to Randall with humor. "At least I'll be around you to make sure you don't go building even crazier scream machines, right?"

"Why does everyone keep bring that up? That's behind me. All the station glitches in the factory are keeping me busy enough, anyway." Randall ignored the light chuckles around the table. "Having a station break down is practically a daily thing, now. Everyone on the maintenance team is frustrated with it. I'm not surprised, really" he took another bite of pancakes. "Those stations are ancient; they've been there for decades, so it won't be long until they all break down for good."

Naomi found the problem interesting. "Sounds serious. Perhaps they should get some new ones in. I remember the ones in Scream Industries having some problems, too."

Randall paused with a fork halfway to his mouth. A germ of an idea had sprouted in his head…nothing like the maniacal scream extractor plans. This one actually sounded beneficial. Naomi's harmless comment about the door stations had switched on a light bulb: _'Perhaps they should get some new ones in.' Hm…_

He was about to voice his thoughts, when something distracting came into view.

A table across the aisle had just emptied, the family of monsters having paid for their meal of waffles and blue-striped fruit. Randall had to blink a few times—the image of Suzie was there. She sat in one of the chairs gazing straight over at Randall, looking lonely. And it wasn't just a faint ghostly image, like back in the factory foyer. She looked almost real. Her fin-tipped feelers were falling onto the empty plates…

Randall went deathly still, the others all still eating their meals and chatting. He squeezed his eyes shut for several seconds to will the hallucination to go away. _This isn't happening…not again, not here!_

When he opened his eyes, the table was empty. A waitress had appeared there and was clearing off the dirty dishes with routine. Nothing was out of the ordinary…Randall took a few short breaths to stay calm. He couldn't panic, not in front of the others.

"You OK, Randall?" asked Bernard, noticing his nervousness.

"Uh—nothing. I just thought I saw—someone I knew." Randall lied. _Not another one…this is the second time today! I can't really be going crazy…right?_

For the rest of the meal, Bernard glanced at the lizard from time to time. Randall had trouble eating all of a sudden. And he kept glancing around the room as if a worst enemy was hunting him…Bernard wondered if this was just the aftereffects of their earlier conversation and became concerned. Judging from the way he was acting, perhaps there was something else going on that he wasn't telling of.

…

The rest of the day was spent in utter terror. Randall put his acting skills to the ultimate test when he returned to work. Bernard and Becca went back to the Brennen household, and Naomi returned to her own job of serving waffles and pancakes. But he was forced to go about tasks at the factory as if nothing was wrong. He went around every corner with caution, scanned a room before entering to see if any more royal-blue shadows were present. None were. So he kept busy in the hope that nothing else would appear.

The malfunctioning station he'd started on was finally fixed after another hour of tampering with it. Some monsters even congratulated him on the feat. He found this very strange, for he wasn't used to positive feedback. _Weird._ He thought, packing up the tool box. _These problems must be getting serious if one fix-it job makes them that happy._ Now he had reason to ponder his new idea even further.

At the same time, he watched out for his rivals. Plans to simply go invisible at the sight of them were put into place. There was no sign of Wazowski again until the working day's end, when the green monster was spotted talking to his girlfriend at the reception desk. Only this time, Sullivan was there, too.

Randall's entire person filled with rage at the sight.

He ducked back down the corridor to spy from afar. The three appeared to be having a serious discussion, and he didn't want to be seen by them. Wazowski was likely telling all about their brief confrontation on the Laugh Floor. Randall squinted, unsure if it a smart move to slither across the foyer right now. "I can't let them catch me; not if I can help it." He repeated his mantra. He leaned against the wall to breathe for a moment.

Suddenly, a raspy sound like someone clearing their throat startled him, and he spun around in annoyance.

It was the creepy, slug-like administrator, Roz. At least that was how he knew her. She wore a yellow vest with the letters CDA on one side, and a few CDA agents were standing directly behind her. Randall had heard some rumors about her, but hadn't bothered wrapping his head around them. _I guess the rumors were all true._

The agents behind her seemed to be following her lead, so Randall didn't make any sudden moves as a precaution. Roz adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses to peer at him. "Well, well, well. Look who finally turned up." She spoke slowly to emphasize every syllable. "I trust you enjoyed your banishment, Mr. Boggs?"

He frowned. "Do you mind keeping it down?" he hissed as other monsters were thickly trafficking the hallways, giving the agents a wide berth.

"Everyone in this factory has figured it out, Mr. Boggs. Banishment. The ultimate penalty." Roz stated. "I've been making rounds ever since you and your friends returned. Contamination is still a big concern for many monsters." She leaned in to give him a strong warning. "And about that old machine of yours? Don't. Let it. Happen. Again."

Randall blinked, but made no other sign of emotion. How did Roz-? No. He didn't want to know. That was all in the past…he was in the middle of a crisis, trying to prove he could change! Of course, that didn't mean the path would be easy. So he gave Roz and the CDA agents a single nod of understanding before moving back towards the foyer.

"We're watching you, Boggs. Always watching…" Roz called after him.

 _Geez. No wonder everyone is creeped out by her._ Randall made himself invisible so he could cross the giant foyer. The glass-domed room was very crowded, full of monsters heading home. He would not have even been noticed by his rivals, even if he _had_ been in a normal state. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Sullivan, Wazowski, and Celia Mae did not even notice the front doors swing open of their own accord.

…

"So, let me see if I understand this," Sam was saying. "You want to design new door stations? For the entire factory?"

It was evening, and the brothers were relaxing in the living room while Rex played with blocks on the floor. Sam lounged on the sofa, his four legs on the recliner, but Randall was perched on the windowsill. A hard surface which was quite comfortable to him. From there, he answered Sam's disbelieving questions. "It's a thought."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Sam was intrigued about what brought this up so suddenly.

"The stations haven't been upgraded in decades. I literally have to fix some sort of haywire problem every _day_ at work, and it is driving me absolutely insane. They need to be replaced anyway, so why not get something brand new?"

"I dunno, Randall…I know you're very crafty when it comes to building things—"

"'Course I am," Randall raised his chin proudly. "Another reason why I survived so long in the Human World. You should have seen all the pulley systems I built from scratch when I was on my own—"

"But this seems a bit much. You tried revolutionizing the scaring industry before, when you agreed to Mr. Waternoose's plan, remember? And look how that turned out."

This wasn't the support Randall expected. The brothers rarely agreed on things, and this was such a big topic it was hard not for them to argue about it. Rex, on the floor building a colorful fort, was listening with interest. "I think it's neat!" he exclaimed. "'Uncle Randy: the Inventor.'"

"No," said Sam. "No one is going to invent anything just yet."

"Aw, why not?"

"Yeah, why not?" Randall pretended to whine along with his nephew.

Sam frowned. "That's not funny. What I meant was, don't rush into this idea. As frustrating as you are sometimes, Randall…I don't want to see you getting into more trouble."

Randall wasn't sure how to respond to this honest answer. So he settled for helping Rex to finish building the block fort. For a few minutes, it was quiet, full of tense thoughts. "So, what do you guys think I should do, then?"

"Have you told your friends about this idea?" When Randall shook his head, Sam went on. "Then maybe that's what you should do next. Get some more opinions about this. I'll even call up Dad to see what he thinks—"

"What?! No. Last thing I need is Dad's opinion."

"Yay! Does that mean Grandpa's coming?" Rex cried out, running to the couch to jump into Sam's arms. "Grandpa's so busy all the time, he _never_ comes over. When's he coming? Tell me!"

"Later! He's coming later!" Sam tried to pry his son off. He turned back to Randall, who was looking extremely irritated. "Sorry, bro. But an idea like this needs careful consideration before you take action. I'll only bring it up to Dad and no one else. I promise."

"That's what I'm dreading…" Randall got up to leave the room.

Since Rex was suddenly overexcited about a prospective visit from his grandfather, Sam had a hard time starting the usual bedtime routine. This suited Randall just fine. With Sam busy, he could use the time to cool down his rising temper.

Randall already felt a headache forming at the prospect. The relationship with their father was indeed strained. Brains tended to run in the family, and the brilliant astrophysicist Zachariah Boggs was always at work in an observatory just outside Monstropolis; always studying stars and other astronomy-related stuff. Randall hadn't seen his father since the first day of returning from banishment, and even _that_ had been awkward.

Sam could be heard talking to Rex as he carried the boy upstairs for bed. The kid was always putting up a fight to resist, so Randall could enjoy some time alone for now. It was unlikely Rex would quiet down quickly.

The day had been full of ups and down, good things and bad things, and finally it was just about over. Even though it was ending on a sour note. "A meeting with Dad again…" Randall talked to himself as he walked down the dark hall to the kitchen. "All about what he would call another 'useless endeavor.' Humph…that'll be a blast. I'll never hear the end of it from him…"

He switched on the light. Maybe a quick snack before heading outside to the tree would help him sleep—but a presence in the room made his eyes go wide in horror. He froze. All noise from the upstairs loft was suddenly defeated by the sound of his own pounding heart.

He wasn't alone. It wasn't a shadow or a mere movement out of the corner of his eye. The vision turned its head to look at him, and this time it was completely different than before.

Suzie was sitting in the windowseat. She looked as solid and as real as ever.

 **Who doesn't love a good cliffhanger? Feel free to leave a review (politely-worded, please) and Merry Christmas!**


	8. The Second Nightmare

**Hi there! Sorry this took so long, but life is busy. :) We're picking up right where we left off. Rex has a larger part in this, but this chapter is a bit more Randall-focused, with him dealing with his nightmares on a much more elevated scale. The suspense is building!**

Chapter Seven: The Second Nightmare

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

 _Suzie_ was in the windowseat…just sitting there, watching him. But that was impossible. The kitchen was fully illuminated; she didn't look like a shadow anymore. She looked as solid as a real monster. Her scales were the same shade of forest-green, with the same golden speckles on her face and limbs, but their color was dull and muted. There were more fin-tipped feelers on her head then Becca, which she began to braid distractedly. Her eel-like tail rested on the floor and she had her short legs tucked up comfortably, as if she had been sitting there for a while.

Randall backed up against the counter and gripped it with all four hands to steady himself. With his heart beating painfully in his chest, it felt like he would topple over any moment. He did not yell, nor utter a sound. His voice wasn't working, anyway, but his breath still came in shallow gasps.

Suzie—or whatever it was he was seeing—appeared exactly as he remembered her. The nineteen-year-old still had all of her injuries present: her left arm was visibly broken, bent at a weird angle, there were cuts and bruises from the daily struggles of being banished, and the fatal caved-in skull break was undoubtedly still on the back of her head. That break had caused massive pressure on her brain, ultimately killing her. Even the facial bruising was present and the pupils of her eyes still different sizes; side effects from head injuries.

For a full minute, Randall stared, frozen and backed up against the counter. It was as far away from the apparition as he could get. At last, he found his voice. "This is all another nightmare," he whispered to himself, keeping his gaze towards the floor. "She's not there. She's not there…"

"Of course I'm here!" the image of Suzie spoke, still braiding her feelers.

Randall flinched. This was a very realistic nightmare. "W—what?"

The apparition leaned back against the windowpane. "I've been _trying_ to get your attention for days, Randall! But you've been ignoring me! I thought that trick with the mirror would have been enough. In the locker room, remember?" She looked at him with relief, now that he was finally paying attention. "Or even at the restaurant today. But that freaked you out a little too much."

Randall's shock died down a bit. He let go of the countertop but remained where he stood. From the upstairs loft, Rex could still be heard putting up the usual bedtime protests, with Sam's arguing voice echoing down. So was this vision really happening? Was he even awake?…He responded to Suzie's statement in a shaky voice. "Uh…yeah. It did freak me out a little…"

Suzie watched with amusement as Randall slowly walked around the center counter towards the kitchen table. Suddenly he needed to sit down…Since the table was quite close to the window, this brought him even closer to where she sat. He didn't take his eyes off her for a second. A part of him still didn't believe this was happening. "Why am I seeing you?" he demanded. "Are you a ghost?"

The image answered. "I dunno. Maybe?" She stretched out her arms to examine them; the broken one made her grimace. "Hm. This arm needs fixing. I'm not transparent or anything, am I?"

"No, but you were sometimes…I _knew_ I was seeing things around the factory halls."

"Yeah, that was me!" Suzie smiled. "Who knows? Maybe I am a ghost. Or you could just be imagining me. What do _you_ think I am?"

Randall blinked. Now he was really questioning reality. "Uh…Good question…"

The image gazed around the kitchen, admiring the modern art on the walls, and Rex's crayon drawings on the fridge. Despite her deathly appearance and visible injuries, she was quite calm and relaxed. Unlike the tense Randall who suddenly snapped, "Will you cut that out? Having you scrutinize the room is creeping me out. You're not really here!"

There was a pause as Suzie digested the words. She shrugged. "I guess you're right. I'm not. I mean, who could survive something like _this_?" she twisted around, brushing feelers aside, to show the caved-in skull break.

Randall shut his eyes and looked away. His lungs clenched up with guilt at the sight.

Suzie's joking grin vanished. "Sorry…I shouldn't have done that."

"You think?" He rested his head in one set of hands, exhausted from all this. A quick tug on his fronds told him he wasn't asleep. To be sure, he pulled harder and bit his tongue for good measure. "Ugh. Nope. Still here…"

Suzie stifled a giggle. "Wanna hear a joke? I may not be around anymore, but I still have tons of them!"

"No. Go away." Randall didn't look at her. "Hallucination or not, I can't be talking to things that aren't there."

But the apparition did not disappear. What happened next sent a shiver down Randall's spine. She got up from the windowseat without a sound. Not even the faintest shuffle from her tail was heard; she also cast no shadow on the floor, despite how solid she seemed to be. The movement was so quiet; Randall felt a chilled air as she walked closer—perhaps that was just his nerves. The empty chair on the opposite side of the table did not budge. But somehow, Suzie sat down in it. She gazed at him with sad, worried eyes. "But I want to talk to you."

"Well, _I_ don't want to talk to you." Randall turned away again. "Whatever you are, I'm not going to bother trying to make sense of this. These are just another one of the nightmares coming back to haunt me. They'll stop in due time."

The apparition once again examined the injuries, aware of how bad they were. "I don't really look that bad, do I?"

Randall nodded, remembering those hard, painful days when the accident happened. "That was a bad time. And I really don't want to be reminded of it. So please…just get out of my sight."

"I beg your pardon?" came Sam's voice.

Randall flinched as Sam walked through the doorway. He discreetly glanced back at the chair Suzie had been sitting in—but it was empty. He blinked a few times to be absolutely sure.

Sam wandered over to the fridge to help himself to a snack, all while rubbing his temples. "I know you and I don't get along all the time, Randall, but there's no reason to order me out of your sight. Remember, we all have to share this place, now."

Randall hurriedly tried to act casual. "No, I—sorry, I was just—"

"Talking to yourself again? No worries. That's another habit you should work on. Everyone will think you're crazy." Sam teased.

 _Hopefully it won't get to that point_. The vision, or whatever it was, was gone…for now. Randall sincerely prayed no more nightmares would plague him tonight. "I'm heading outside. It's been…quite a day and I could use some extra shut-eye."

Sam leaned by the fridge munching on leftover pasta. "'Night, then. Don't fall out of the tree."

 _That's the least of my worries. Believe me._ When Randall headed outside, he checked every darkened corner of the garden. Nothing and no one was here. No imaginings; only the little lightning bugs buzzing around to illuminate the darkness. The insects often helped him fall asleep on restless nights. When he lounged in the branches, bugs would flit in and out of the leaves; their glows were nice to watch.

But it would be hard getting any sleep tonight. Not after what had just happened.

…

The following day, the feeling of disturbed reality was still strong. Randal found it hard not to blurt out what had transpired. It had seemed so real…the sight and even the sound of Suzie's voice had been completely legit…

 _Don't even_ think _about bringing that up!_ His conscience shouted as he walked down the street. Bernard, Naomi and Becca were all here _. It wouldn't do to start the day off with a topic like that. You can't. They will think you've gone insane. And if not, telling everyone ghost stories about Becca's sister is a sure-fire way to cause problems._

 _But I have to tell_ someone! Randall's voice of reason fought back. _This secret is just too big to keep._ He was thinking hard about the event while Bernard chatted with Naomi about her new job. The older monster was the only one he had mentioned the nightmares to, and even then, he had been vague. _Bernard doesn't know how bad it's gotten…maybe I'll tell him more about it._

But he had to give that thought great consideration.

Becca was also keeping silent as cars zoomed past on the road. The quartet had to maneuver around other pedestrians on the sidewalk, making it hard for them all to chat. Today was to be her first one coaching workers at the factory. She had been pretty quiet all morning, though. With her moodiness, Randall hoped she wouldn't blow it today. He nudged her. "Hey, you alright? First impressions are always the most important, you know."

"Yeah…with a bit of acting, I'll manage. So don't worry."

Naomi and Bernard, walking a few steps ahead, overheard. Both were proud of the progress Becca was making, even if it was only a small step.

"It'll be OK, Becca," Naomi encouraged. "You're a natural at being bossy. You hardly have to act."

Becca scowled at first, but shrugged in half-hearted agreement.

When the four reached the crosswalk, they all parted their separate ways for the day. Bernard had several places to go while downtown, and Naomi had her new waitressing job a block away. Already she was dressed in the grey, ruffled-apron uniform, ready to go. "Well, I'm off to the pancake house. Hopefully no one will spill coffee on me today. Have fun on your first day, Becca!"

Before Bernard went down another street, he gave Becca a fatherly smile. It was warm and full of comfort, despite the fearsome angler-fish teeth sticking out. His kind eyes were all the encouragement she needed. All said without words. She held her head a bit higher after that. "My place this afternoon, you two; you can tell us how it went." Bernard said as he began to leave. "Keep an eye on her for us, Randall!"

Becca gave a subtle grin of amusement. When the light changed, she gave Randall a playful shove as they crossed the street. "As if I'd ever listen to you on a regular basis, Genius."

The giant walls of Monsters, Inc. loomed ahead. But they certainly felt more inviting this time around. Randall, on the other hand, hoped there wouldn't be any more visions inside. The last thing he wanted today was his own imagination playing tricks on him.

…

 _I wonder how it's going?_ He thought to himself. Becca should be with her first class of new recruits right now… If she was too melancholy today, none of the Scarers would take her seriously. He planned on dropping by the training room later to see how she was faring.

The morning was well underway. A few hours had gone by, and he was hurrying through the mens' locker rooms. He'd forgotten his glasses, and they really came in handy whenever wired machines needed to be repaired. The morning had been quiet thus far. All he had done was take care of some cleaning jobs and shredded a few doors. But Randall had a feeling that something major would act up again today with the Floor machines. It was becoming somewhat of an expected routine.

He was alone in the locker rooms and it made him very nervous. At every corner, he couldn't help but glance around uneasily for unexpected visions.

Last evening's banter with that hallucination played through his mind. _That couldn't have happened…it was all a nightmare. Just a very convincing one._

His conscience argued back _. It looked awfully real, though. You've never seen her so solid before._

 _No! I am not losing my mind! The whole thing had to have been a dream._

 _The guilt you feel isn't helping, either. Maybe the dream—or whatever that thing was—is a sign. Go and talk to Samuel. He's a psychologist and right here in the factory today. He's your brother! He could help you!_

"Hmph. Not a chance." He was far too stubborn to give in to that suggestion. What was his conscience thinking?

As he went past the rows of lockers, he kept glancing over one shoulder. It didn't hurt to check…just in case any more visions snuck up on him. A knot twisted in his stomach. There was no sign of Suzie, but there was still a distinct feeling of being watched…The color of his scales had faded to a dull, sickly purple without realizing, for his thoughts were very anxious; almost fearful. But as he let out a deep breath, the color returned to normal. "Man, I'm jumpier then I thought…"

After getting the glasses, he turned to leave and get back to the list of chores for today.

Suddenly, a small orange monster materialized out of thin air right in front of him. "BOO!" Rex jumped onto a bench. He laughed at his uncle's reaction. "Haha! Made you jump! Made you jump!"

Randall frowned in annoyance. "What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be in daycare?"

"The lady gave us stuff to color, but I didn't feel like it. So I came looking for you!" Rex replied quite happily.

Had the kid been following him through the locker room all this time? Randall groaned, hoping he hadn't witnessed him talking to himself. "Well, don't do that again. I thought you were another ghost—"

Rex perked up in interest. "Huh? A ghost?"

 _Whoops. Shouldn't have said that…_ Randall thought quickly, lest his nephew start asking questions. "Uh—nothing. C'mon, let's get you back, Squirt. Before we both get in trouble."

The boy protested at first, so Randall just threated to tell Sam of him sneaking off. This made Rex's eyes pop open wider with nerves, and then followed obediently. Randall sighed; he was finally learning how to handle this kid. Sometimes it was just like interacting with himself, but in miniature. They began to leave the locker rooms, but as they turned a corner, another monster nearly collided with them. "Hey, watch it!" Randall began—then backed away a few steps upon seeing who it was.

Oversized, covered in blue, purple-spotted fur, and looking just as startled: it was Sullivan. Face to face. After the hallucination yesterday, would this day get just as bad?

"Randall!" The blue-furred bear exclaimed. Evidently he was just as surprised at bumping into him.

"Hi." Randall said, deadpan. _Just keep on walking and don't get yourself banished again_. He pointed at Rex, who waved up at the big monster in awe. "Sorry, Sullivan, but my nephew wandered off again, so if you'll excuse me?"

Sullivan, still looking very surprised, stepped aside as the Boggs monsters made to leave. "Sure." Before they got far, he called after them. "But I've got some questions for you later, Randall. About your friend, Rebecca—"

"Ugh. Not you, too! First Wazowski, and now you," Randall groaned. He tried to set a few things straight while he had the chance. "She goes by 'Becca,' for your information. And I give you my word that we're not here to cause any trouble. We're just trying to recover."

"Recover from what?" Sullivan frowned in suspicion.

The answer to that was so complex that Randall didn't even bother explaining. The newspapers had been telling the entire Monster World for ages. "I think the world knows the answer to that, already. I'm not in the mood to talk about it." He turned back to his nephew. "C'mon, Rex."

They left the startled Sullivan standing there in the doorway, now looking confused as well.

When out of earshot, Rex piped up again, "Hey, what did you mean when you said 'another ghost?'" He asked with excitement as they wove through the crowded halls. "Did you see one?"

Randall didn't respond. _Oh great. What have I done_?

Rex broke the silence after a minute, asking something else completely random. "Uncle Randy, can I get up on your shoulders?"

"No. Piggy-back rides are out of the question. C'mon; I have a lot of things to do today." They had made it to the maze of carpeted hallways of the factory. He only glimpsed back once to make sure Sullivan wasn't following. He could care less what the big blue buffoon thought. _So long as he doesn't banish me again, I'll live._ From this point on, ignoring him and Wazowski seemed to be the wisest way to avoid such a fate.

A twinge of fear rose up as he guided his nephew by the hand through the factory. There was another royal-blue shadow, just out of the corner of his eye; following. Randall was _positive_ it was there…like an annoying bug that wouldn't leave him alone. He side-glanced down at Rex, but the kid didn't seem to notice anything strange.

The shadow wasn't fully formed, but it was there all the same. At one point, it stood in plain sight at the end of a hallway…but Rex obviously didn't see it. The kid just kept looking around at the portraits on the walls, instead. This really made Randall worried; would he have hallucinations in the presence of others? The idea terrified him.

…

For days and days, Mike had been keeping a careful eye on Randall Boggs. The green cyclops was by no means afraid of another fiasco as serious as what had happened two years ago. No. He was just making sure Randall wasn't up to any other devious plots. But ever since learning that the new Scare Coach had been banished, too? Well, that made Mike a bit more vigilant.

"Googley-Bear, you're acting so worried about this—" Celia said one day as Mike stopped by the reception desk. She hadn't noticed any odd behavior from the lizard.

"Worried? Who's worried?" Mike defended. "My dearest, you never saw the contraption he built! I just want to make sure nothing like that whole fiasco ever happens again. I've seen him drawing things in a sketchbook during breaks, and by golly, if it's _anything_ nefarious," Mike took her tentacled hands into his to gaze at her with a mushy grin. "I'll be the first to make sure _everyone_ in this factory stays safe, Schmoopsie-Poo."

"Oh, Googley Bear, how noble of you!" Celia crooned, along with her snake-hair.

So Mike went about work as usual, all while observing Randall's daily routines. Whenever he passed him in the foyer or on a Scare or Laugh Floor, the lizard was always wearing a tool vest and hardhat, going about maintenance tasks. Sometimes he'd be seen drawing in the cafeteria. And he spent an awful lot of time with the new Scare Coach, Rebecca McKeen. According to Fungus, she had been one of the gang of banished monsters the papers had spoken of. One of Randall's fellow banished friends; another criminal, no doubt. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but that didn't stop Mike from being watchful.

One day, only a few since the McKeen woman began working here, Mike spotted the two of them sitting together during a lunch hour. He was just about to go and meet Celia, but stopped for a moment to observe them.

The cafeteria was packed as usual for this time of day. Monsters from all over the factory were digging into today's special: some sort of purple, meat-filled sandwiches with slimy round fruits that resembled eyeballs. It looked delicious, but Mike was more focused on whatever the untrustworthy lizard was up to.

Randall was at a table at one end of the hall, with Rebecca McKeen sitting across from him. They each had one of the meaty sandwiches, but she was merely poking at it instead of eating. Mike was surprised; whenever he saw her in the training rooms, she was a tough, don't-mess-with-me type. Now, she seemed very despondent. Randall was talking to her, engaging her in conversation to try and cheer her up. Mike had never witnessed the lizard act like this, acting genuinely concerned for someone else. It was downright weird.

Heavy footsteps came up from behind, along with Sulley's huge shadow. "Mike, what are you doing?"

He stiffened at getting caught. "Nothing. Just some good old-fashioned spying."

"On who? Randall and the new Scare Coach?" Sulley lowered the clipboard in his hands and peered into the cafeteria as well. He already knew of McKeen's past and of how she and Randall had met. The whole situation made him wary, but unlike Mike, he had decided to give them both a chance. "I'm a bit edgy with banished monsters hanging around, too; especially when one of them tried to kill us…But don't you think you're over-reacting a bit?"

"It never hurts to be too careful, big guy. I just saw the end of a coaching class the McKeen woman did. She's one tough cookie. You should have seen how she handled those Scarers! It was like they were training to go into battle."

"So?"

Mike pointed a thumb at her and Randall, still sitting far away at the table. "Those two were banished together. And Randall is not the best influence to have around. Who knows what sort of trouble will arise next?"

"Looks to me like they're just having lunch."

Mike wasn't completely convinced. Sometimes, Sulley was just too darn nice. Wasn't he worried about what could potentially happen with criminals hanging around? For a few moments, he was silent while Sulley tried to lighten the situation.

"Mike, have you ever considered the possibility that maybe he's changed?" Although the scenario made him wary, nothing bad had happened around the factory so far. And even Jeffery Fungus had said that the former outcasts weren't causing any problems; just keeping to themselves while coping with the rest of the world. To Sulley, those were signs that something was different. He couldn't dismiss the possibility: maybe being banished had changed them, somehow.

Mike had never thought about that. He didn't answer and looked back over at Randall and Rebecca. The way they interacted towards one another contained real, genuine friendship. Randall was talking animatedly, maybe telling a story or something, and the Scare Coach had even perked up a little. She didn't look as downtrodden as before. It was all so bizarre. Mike pondered Sulley's question; could the former Scarer have reformed, somehow? Maybe.

"Anything's possible, I guess." Mike finally answered. But until he knew for sure, the ex-banished monsters needed to be watched. Just in case.

…

The gang of former outcasts settled into somewhat of a routine. Their re-adjustment to living in the Monster World was going well, now that everyone had something to do. The Brennens were of course busy with the family fishing business, so Bernard was quite happy to help down at the docks. Naomi wasn't as bored these days, but she quickly found plenty of things to complain about at the pancake house. As for Becca, she got the hang of coaching at the factory. But the way she behaved while there was like acting. In the presence of the Scarers, she _almost_ behaved like her old self; but it was incredibly forced and not quite right. Randall noticed this when he went to observe one of her training sessions. The moment it was over, she reverted to her gloomy ways. She was like this all the time, now; as if she was trying her absolute hardest not to fall into depression. So he just kept encouraging her to get through each day, one hour at a time.

Even though they were all busy, the four friends found ways to meet every day. So of course they were kept well-informed of the others' lives. Sometimes they went on grand exertions to Lugosi Cove on Bernard's boat, or on a hiking trip at one of the local parks. Often they met for breakfast in the Brennen's backyard. There was something about sitting out on the grass and being surrounded by trees that made them feel oddly at home. Even Naomi didn't mind the wilderness anymore.

Randall cherished these peaceful times; he felt closer to these monsters then his own family. However, they did not bring up the subject of Suzie too often; he wished they would…but Becca still wasn't ready to go into deep discussion about her sister. There was one time at breakfast when Naomi nonchalantly tried to mimic one of Suzie's jokes; Becca had tearfully gotten up from the grass and fled inside. The others had been careful not to bring up Suzie since.

Randall had not seen a full hallucination of her since that evening in the kitchen. That had been weeks ago…There _had_ been plenty of shadows around the factory, but nothing like a fully-formed monster. He took this as a good sign. The less of his imaginings, the better.

With no terrifying distractions, there was finally a chance to concentrate on the idea brewing in his head.

Apart from his brother and father, he had not yet told anyone of his idea for a new door station design. Sam hadn't been very encouraging, thinking it was all a bad idea, and word hadn't even been heard from their father. His opinion was still a mystery. But Randall was itching to tell his friends all about the ambitious plan. He decided to start brainstorming and sketch a few things, first.

During a day when there had been fewer door glitches than usual, he snuck into the cafeteria for an extra round of sketching. It was the middle of the afternoon, so not many monsters were here amongst the sea of tables and chairs. Just a few other maintenance workers grabbing snacks.

 _Finally. I can work in peace. No more nephews trying to pester me._ The game of 'Rex Escaping Daycare' was getting to be very annoying.

Nobody approached him after he sat down with the sketchbook. By now, the factory had pretty much figured out he was the monster the newspapers had spoken of. Sullivan and Wazowski were popular and had likely spread the truth, as well: the exiled one who had somehow survived and returned like it was nothing…Some monsters admired it, others were still fearful of him, but frankly, Randall didn't care anymore. It had been weeks since the disguise had been used. Now he had more important things to do.

 _And no imaginings to distract me._ Several pages of the sketchbook were already full of diagrams, drawings, notes and technical jargon that only he could decipher. All of the breakdowns with the old door stations simply had to stop. A brand-new design would certainly update things around here, too. Another idea was jotted down and he nodded in satisfaction. _Maybe after today, I'll show these to Bernard and the girls. It'd be good to hear their opinions on this…_

A little orange nuisance broke his train of thought. "BOO!" Rex materialized out of nowhere, making Randall drop the pencil. "Gotcha again, Uncle Randy!"

He grumbled. "Are you going to pester me again today? This game is really getting old."

Rex ignored the question and climbed into a chair. "Watcha drawing?"

"Are you even allowed to be in here? The daycare monsters are probably having a field day, dealing with you."

Rex shrugged. "No one saw me. But I still need practice staying invisible for longer. Can you teach me?" he asked, leaning across the table to see what his uncle was doing. "Dad would, but he's been real busy with his jobs."

"Maybe later." Randall tried to focus on his work again, hoping Rex would take a hint and leave. But he didn't. With an exasperated sigh, Randall explained, "I'm busy. Sketching; brainstorming; however you want to call it."

"Neat. What for?" Rex leaned over to see the diagrams. He was smart enough to figure out the basics of what was going on. "You're gonna build something big, aren't you?"

"Maybe. It'll be big, alright," Randall began, looking over the new drawing. "No one knows about it, except for your dad. It's kind of a secret, so don't go around telling everybody, OK?" Suddenly, he became worried that too much had been said. "You can keep a secret, right, Rex?"

"Sure I can." When Randall gave a doubting gaze, the boy reassured with full honesty, "Dad says it's really bad to tell secrets, 'specially when someone trusts you." He then remembered an evening from several weeks ago, when his uncle first mentioned something like this. "Is this what you and Dad were talking about in the living room?"

"I'm surprised you remember that. He didn't seem to like the idea, did he?"

"No. But maybe Grandpa will. He's smart, too; maybe he can help."

"Hm…he could, actually. Unless he's not keen on it, either…if only he would just call back." Randall thought. Zachariah Boggs was still being aloof. The man hadn't even bothered to phone, making Randall worry about what his father truly thought about such a plan. He confessed to Rex, "I hope Sam didn't go ahead and tell him too much. If I could tell him my side of it first—" his words became stuck in his throat all of a sudden and he became as still as a statue.

A new sight met his eyes. One that had been more or less absent until now.

Suzie was sitting in the cafeteria.

She was right there, eight feet away, lounging at the next table. Her arms were crossed over the back of her chair; the broken arm still bent and misshapen. There was a regarding look in her dead eyes, as if she had been listening to the conversation with interest.

Rex followed his uncle's gaze in confusion. There was nothing over there. "What is it?"

"Uh—sorry. I just thought I saw something." Randall said as casually as possible.

"What?" Rex pressed. "Did you see a ghost again? Like you mentioned before?"

 _Geez, this kid has a good memory._ Randall closed both eyes for a second, but the image of Suzie remained unaltered when he opened them. She raised an eyebrow as if daring him to admit that she was there. But he wasn't giving in, and turned back to Rex. "I—I really shouldn't be telling you about that."

"If it's a secret, I can keep it." his nephew insisted. He spoke with extreme seriousness, in a quieter voice for emphasis. "I promise. I've never told anyone's secrets; not once in my whole life!"

"You're only four; there's still room for error." Randall shot back. He looked up again to see Suzie still sitting there. No matter how many times he blinked, she did not go away. _What to do, what to do?..._ If he finally told about what he was seeing, would it do any good? _Maybe she'll disappear if I do…but telling it to my nephew, of all monsters?_ "Well…" he thought about it for several more seconds and at last gave in. "OK…I'll tell you, Rex. But _only_ because you promised never to reveal it. Understood?"

"I promise." The boy nodded and crossed his heart with all four hands. There was brutal honesty in the words. He hopped down and moved into a chair right next to Randall so they could talk in whispers. He leaned forward to listen closely, as if the biggest secret in the world was about to be revealed. "It must be real important, right?"

"Yeah, it is." Randall tried to focus more on the kid and less on the hallucination…that's what she was, right? It wasn't easy. Suzie waved exuberantly at him to try and get his attention. Despite the brutal injuries, she appeared perfectly fine. She smiled when he made the briefest eye contact.

 _No. She's not really there!_ He gave a quick frown of warning before turning away. _Don't look at her and she'll go away._

But the vision wasn't accepting that. Suzie kept lounging on the chair, now pouting with crossed arms. At least she wasn't talking to him like last time.

Rex awaited an answer and was growing impatient with Randall's stalling.

 _Telling this to a kid; I'm not sure if this is the smartest thing to do._ But Rex had sounded sincere when he said he'd keep the secret. No one would believe a four-year-old if he broke the promise. And who would believe him, anyway? They'd all think it was some made-up story. With these reassurances firmly set in place, Randall exhaled. Confessing these nightmares would be a relief, even if they were only told to this one, little monster.

So he took a deep breath. _Time to admit the truth about my own sanity…oh boy, this is not going to be easy._ But it was only Rex who was listening. "OK, here it goes…" Randall began. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

He couldn't resist glancing at the other table to check on what the vision was doing.

But the image of Suzie had vanished.

 **Up next: Randall, Naomi and Bernard try another way to help Becca's sad state of mind, but with Randall becoming a bit more unhinged, things ain't gonna be easy. Really having fun with this story, now. :D Feel free to let me know what you think! (worded politely, please and thank you.)**


	9. Reality and Reverie

**Whew! And a whole 12 pages later...We have Rex bugging Randall about the 'ghost/vision' of Suzie, much to his chagrin, and more friendships are beginning to take place. Also, Randall is questioning his own sanity after another strange encounter. This took forever, but it turned out pretty good. Enjoy reading! :)**

Chapter Eight: Reality and Reverie

Early signs of summer were beginning to creep up in Monstropolis. Days grew longer and the sun was getting warmer with each one that passed. The grass became a little greener and trees grew very lush and full, while an increase in the insect population drove a lot of mosnters crazy. Samuel Boggs was one of these. There was a fly-swatter in every room of the house, just in case a fanged-toothed biting fly got in. The ones that breathed fire were even worse. He hoped the bugs would deter his brother from sleeping outside in the backyard tree, but to his surprise, Randall didn't even mention it. A few extra flies would hardly bother someone who used to live out in the wilderness. Sam figured that was why, so he shrugged it off. But he had noticed some more odd behaviors from Randall lately.

Every morning, Randall came into the house with an odd look of dread. He'd look around every room he entered as if a worst enemy was about to jump out from the shadows. When Sam had days of counselling at Monsters, Inc., he sometimes saw Randall in the halls, and the nervous behavior was still present. It was like he was waiting for something bad to happen…but what? Sam wondered if his brother was still having nightmares.

"You know, you can always talk to me," he hinted one morning as Randall got ready to leave for Bernard's place. "If there's something bothering you, why don't you come while I'm counselling at the factory?"

"Nah. I'm fine." Randall refused with the usual stubbornness. "I'm just—trying to sort a few things out; that's all."

Sam wasn't buying it. "OK. But I'm professionally obligated not to reveal any secrets. Remember that, in case you change your mind."

"See you later, Uncle Randy!" Rex waved goodbye as Randall left.

Sam could always sense when something was wrong. Whatever was on Randall's mind must have been big, for he was acting far too distracted these days. It was obvious _something_ was plaguing him. And Rex had been spending a lot of time with him, too, which was pretty odd, considering the later couldn't put up with the kid for very long. Whatever was going on, Sam had to get to the bottom of it.

…

Randall was confident—sort of—that not a single soul would learn of his secret. There had been subtle signs of Suzie everywhere he went. Nothing as alarming as that time in the kitchen, though; having a hallucination actually _speak_ and converse was something he hoped wouldn't happen again. These last few weeks, there would be the occasional blue shadow out of the corner of his eye. Once in a while, he'd see a very real-looking Suzie when he least expected it: standing in a factory hallway, sitting in a cafeteria chair, or in his own living room. Bit by bit, the visions grew farther and farther apart. One day Randall saw her standing in the middle a Laugh Floor. She had waved quite happily at him, but as usual, he ignored it, going right back to work as though nothing was amiss. Sightings like this would only last for a few seconds, and the vision was always silent. So he would ignore them until they disappeared. As disturbing as these sightings were, at least they weren't talking to him. And she wasn't appearing every single day. That was good…maybe this whole thing would end on its own. Then he wouldn't have to go see a shrink.

It still shocked Randall to think that he had done the unthinkable: actually gone and told his nephew.

Rex had listened all-too attentively when Randall explained of the Suzie 'ghost.' The boy had sat quietly at the cafeteria table, barely moving a muscle, and hung onto every word. He had been a mixture of amazement and awe. _Of course, the kid is at an age when he'll believe anything._ Randall reminded himself one day as he made the safety rounds at the factory. Telling someone of the sightings had lifted a weight off his own shoulders, even though Rex was just a kid. _And if he breaks his promise and tells anyone, I'll just say I told him a ghost story._

In the time that followed, no other monsters came to interrogate him about ghosts, hallucinations, or whatever it was that he was seeing. Not even Sam. It seemed Rex was indeed capable of keeping secrets. _I just hope it lasts…can't have Rex telling anybody. Especially Bernard and the girls…_ He shuddered to imagine what Becca would do if she found out that he was seeing her dead sister everywhere he went.

The former outcasts still met every day, spending time together to chat, have meals together, go on boating trips with the Brennens, or even leave the city for a weekend. Not one of them asked awkward questions about 'ghosts,' so Randall became less tense about the situation as the days passed.

One morning, Rex escaped from daycare yet again. Monsters all over the factory were used to this by now. It was almost expected of Rex to wander around and cause mischief. But today, the boy was off in search of his uncle. He found him sitting alone in the cafeteria, working on something. So Rex, still invisible, began creeping up to surprise him…

Randall was busy sketching out a final design for his upgraded door station idea. A few other monsters were also in the cafeteria catching a late breakfast. It was quiet in here, so Randall took the opportunity to finish the last sketch. He was so engrossed with the work he didn't even notice when Rex made an appearance out of thin air. The pencil broke when he jumped in his seat.

"Made it! I stayed invisible all the way here!" Rex bragged from the other side of the table. The boy crawled underneath it and popped up to sit in a chair next to Randall. He whispered in a low voice, "So, have you seen the ghost today?"

Randall's good mood was instantly lost. Did they have to talk about this _now_? "She's not a ghost—well, maybe she is…I'm still not sure." Randall hadn't told Rex of the 'ghost's' full identity; just that the imaginary monster had been someone he knew. But Rex was persistent, trying to learn more.

"Hasn't she shown up today?"

"It's been days since the last sighting! I don't know when she shows up; it's always random." Randall explained. "Who knows? Maybe it will stop on its own and she'll go away."

"But you hafta tell me who she is; what's her name? And how come I haven't seen her?"

"I dunno, Rex, I'm not full of answers to everything!" he put the pencil down in frustration. "And for the last time, this is _not_ a ghost I'm seeing."

"But you said it's someone who used to be alive and isn't anymore. And that she was a good friend. What else could it be?"

The kid made a good case. _Whatever it is, it's all in my head. It has to be…_ He thought in denial. But the other voice in his head argued back. _Wouldn't it be great if she actually was a ghost? That would prove you're not going crazy._

Rex wanted to talk and visit before the daycare workers tracked him down again, so he kept on chatting with his uncle. He was determined to bring him out of a state of denial. Randall kept on sketching, remaining vague about the ghost questions whenever they were asked. Soon, a sudden angry voice broke the quiet atmosphere. It surprised both of them.

"There you are!" fumed Sam as he stormed into the cafeteria. He frowned at his young son. "Rex, you have got to stop doing this! That woman who runs the daycare came to my office, practically begging me to help find you. She's so upset I wouldn't be surprised if she came to a counselling session."

"Aw, Dad, can't I stay here?" Rex whined.

Sam sighed, not in the mood for an argument. "And you," he pointed at Randall. "You should know better than to just _let_ him hang out here when you know very well other monsters are looking for him."

"Hey, at least the kid doesn't leave the building," Randall returned to sketching as Sam's tattooed arm scooped up Rex in a single movement. This was when the elder Boggs brother noticed what was on the paper. Without speaking, Randall flipped a few pages to show all of the designs that had been done so far. More than half of the book was full. A number of pages had technical jargon, full of the mechanics of each diagram. He hadn't shown these to anyone besides the bothersome Rex. Today, he allowed Sam to flip through the sketchbook and nervously waited to hear an opinion.

Sam sat down to better see. "Wow, you're really serious about this, aren't you? These look pretty good," he complimented, sliding the book closer. "An upgraded door station design would really benefit this place. In a better way than that scream extractor would have."

"Well, that's the basic idea." said Randall. "A little something to prove I can be useful around here."

"You're useful enough. I heard you've become quite an expert at fixing those old machines. A lot of the other maintenance monsters are grateful; some of them can't make heads or tails of the breakdowns."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sam looked at the sketches again. Although he wasn't a hundred percent on board with this idea, what Randall had in mind was still impressive. "I'll admit this is a bit over-ambitious, even for you. But if you go through with it, it would surely prove to everyone you've changed for the better." Randall frowned and crossed every arm at this comment. Sam reassured, "I meant that as a compliment."

"Oh," Another worry then crept into Randall's mind. "You told Dad about this idea ages ago; have you heard any word from him, yet?"

"He's coming down from the country at the end of the month; he'll probably drop by then. He was a bit cryptic when I called, but you know how he is." Sensing his brother's anxiety, Sam said with encouragement. "It'll be fine. He sounded very interested in what you're planning."

"Just as long as he doesn't chew me out over it."

"Alright! Grandpa's coming!" Rex, still struggling in Sam's arm, clapped in excitement. "Hey Uncle Randy, do you think I can help build this thingy you're gonna make?"

"No." said both Boggs brothers simultaneously.

Randall was left alone when Sam carried Rex off back to the daycare. _Great. Yet another problem to add to my list of problems…_ Not only did he have to contend with his nephew butting into the plans, but an upcoming visit from his father as well. Zachariah Boggs was a nice guy; very successful in his career and got along with most monsters. But also very aloof and constantly busy with astronomy work. Neither Sam nor Randall saw much of him, but the elder brother got along far better with their father then the other. Randall was not looking forward to it and immediately tried to think up ways to get on his father's good side. The man had always been hard to please…

A feminine voice over the announcement speaker broke his thoughts. " _Attention. Would Randall Boggs and Rebecca McKeen come to reception, please? Randall Boggs and Rebecca McKeen to reception."_

The echoing voice belonged to Celia Mae. Thinking he was in some sort of trouble, Randall gathered up the sketchbook and began slinking through the hallways, trying to be as discreet as possible. Getting called out to the foyer wasn't necessarily a good thing. He frowned in annoyance. _This day just keeps getting better and better. What have I done now?_

…

Becca had quickly wrapped up a coaching session after hearing the announcement, now walking briskly towards the foyer as well. Other monsters jumped out of her way; some were already aware of the new Scare Coach's fiery temper. She and Randall bumped into each other in a hallway. "What are you in for?" she demanded, joining him. "You didn't land yourself in hot water, did you?"

"Not to my knowledge. What about you? Please tell me you didn't beat up a Scarer just for the fun of it."

"Very funny." She smirked. "But if we're in trouble with the head hauncho, let's just play it cool."

Much to their surprise, it was only Bernard and Naomi waiting at the reception desk. Naomi was still in her grey waitressing uniform and waved cheerfully upon seeing them. The scent of salt water and seaweed wafted around Bernard; it became more noticeable as they approached. The man must have recently come from the docks from a hard day of fishing.

Randall sighed in relief and leaned against the desk. "Thank goodness it's only you two. What are you doing here?"

Bernard got straight to the point. "We just dropped in to see 'hi.' And also to make a few plans. So you remember Naomi's idea to head out to a shooting range? Turns out one has to reserve spots for some of the activities at this place." He addressed Becca as well. "Are you free tomorrow?"

Naomi was clearly excited about it all. "Yeah! Tomorrow's Saturday. It'll be fun!"

"Sure, I'm game." agreed Randall. Suddenly, he was aware of others listening in. Celia Mae was of course sitting right there on the other side of the desk. Her ability to multitask meant she could hear every word in addition to answering multiple phone calls. Was her living snake-hair capable of helping her with the job? Randall wasn't sure. Another pang of worry came when Mike Wazowski strolled up. The green monster was waiting patiently for his girlfriend to finish up a phone call so they could chat. But at the moment, Wazowski's one eye was watching the group of ex-banished monsters.

Randall tried to ignore them. He returned to the conversation with his friends. "But you guys didn't have to come all the way to the factory just to ask us that. Why are you really here?"

"It was no trouble; we were both walking this way, anyway," Bernard explained. "I thought it a prime time to check up on you two. There aren't any rules against visiting once in a while. So, how are you faring in this place, Becca?"

She hesitated before answering. "OK, I guess…I get to coach the Scarers all day. That's fun."

"You sound very thrilled." Naomi rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you've been so down lately; there's gotta be something more than that."

She shrugged before pointing a thumb at Randall. "Well, I can bug Randy here whenever I want."

They all had a good chuckle at Randall's half-annoyed, half-amused stare. Bernard realized this visit couldn't last for long, so he returned to the more pleasant topic. "A good session of target practice will do us all some good; I'll arrange it for tomorrow. It's been ages since any of us hunted. Remember those shooting contests we used to have in Yellowstone?"

Naomi nodded. "Yeah. And I was really starting to get the hang of archery in the swamps."

"And yet, you're still the worst shot out of everyone here." Becca pointed out.

They all spent a few minutes talking about times gone by. Plans were hurriedly made, and everyone's spirits were lifted considerably. But Randall wished they weren't standing so close to the reception desk. He kept watch on Wazowski and Celia Mae. Of course they were listening in; piecing together who the strangers were. Wazowski glanced at Naomi multiple times with faint recognition, too _. Great. I just know I'm in for another round of questioning._ Randall thought. Wazowksi had been very annoying the last couple of weeks, pestering with questions about the past two years. _I'd better disappear and make a quick getaway once Bernard and Naomi leave._

"Bernard's right," Becca said to whole gang. "It _has_ been ages. Randall, you and I should have a contest. You were the best competition out of our little group. And Suzie and I can—" she trailed off, her gold-speckled face falling.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"You OK?" Randall broke the silence when no one else did.

"I just—forgot." She said quietly. But then she shook her head and tried to act normal once again. "Nevermind. There's a big day tomorrow to focus on…" She let Bernard put a comforting hand on her shoulder and give a fatherly smile. It wasn't much, but it did make the sadness disappear somewhat.

Once everything was all set, Bernard and Naomi left while Randall and Becca turned to head back into the bowels of the factory. She had more coaching sessions, and he had a lot of maintenance tasks to catch up on, not to mention tracking down Fungus to form a game plan for the door station designs. The big project would require some extra help.

Randall walked with Becca, about to tell her of the sketches he'd finished, when an interruption came running up from behind.

"Hey, Randall!" called Wazowski, catching up.

 _Ugh, I forgot about a quick getaway!_ Randall crossed his arms and turned to face the cyclops, putting on a glaring expression for emphasis. _I knew this would happen; another interrogation. He'd better take a hint and get lost._ Becca stayed beside him, more curious then annoyed, as Wazowksi approached.

"That woman who was just here," Wazowski pointed at Naomi and Bernard, who were just heading out the factory front doors. "Wasn't she part of that sorority back at the university? You know, all of those prissy girls who wore pink?" His mind was baffled as he then asked, "How the heck did you two become friends?"

"Banishment will do that." Randall answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Mike was flabbergasted. " _She_ was banished? What did she do, rob a shopping mall? And what on earth was that conversation about, with the big, toothy feather-head? It's like everyone was—" Realization dawned on him, glancing from Randall to Becca, then back at the factory front doors. "Ohhh…now I get it. It's all four of you! _You're_ the ones the papers have been speaking of!"

Becca cut in. "Very good, Mr. Wazowski. We _are_ the ones the papers have been talking about. And our weekend plans are none of your business. So, if you don't mind, _butt out_!" The cyclops flinched at the sudden outburst. She took a breath, remembering she was talking to one of the top Laughers and best friend of the CEO. "Uh—Sorry…There have been a lot of things on my mind, lately." She turned to Randall. "I have another coaching session soon. Think we can walk back to Bernard's after work?"

"Sure. See you later." He watched her scurry down the hallway before glaring at Wazowski in anger. "Nice going, you idiot comedian! You probably made things worse!"

"I'm just trying to prevent a repeat of what happened two years ago! I, for one, have no desire for more weird torture machines or getting thrown out into a frozen wasteland again! Fungus told me that McKeen was one of your exiled pals; how come the rest of them are hanging around?"

"Because they are my _friends_ , Wazowski. End of story!" Randall went on. He tried to explain again, just to get the cyclops off his back. "Look, we're all trying to readjust to being back in the Monster World. And we're all coping at different rates; Becca hasn't been the same since Suzie died, so we're all trying to help her. I'm having a really hard time with it, too. So I've got enough to deal with without you and your stupid questions."

Mike had never heard that name before. "'Suzie?' Is that the one who died?" Since the newspapers hadn't used real names, the identity of the 'one who had died' had been a complete secret.

Randall hesitated before confirming Wazowski's suspicions. It seemed the only way to avoid more trouble. "It was an accident. But yeah…she was the one who died."

There was a change in Randall's posture all of a sudden. Every arm hung limp, and he didn't stand up so straight. The look on the lizard's face was one of total regret, guilt, with even sadness mixed in. That was surprising; Mike had never seen Randall look so shamefaced before. "Newspaper articles can get pretty exaggerated. What really happened out there?" Mike pressed further when Randall didn't answer. "Well? Are you ever gonna tell?"

The lizard frowned. "No." With that, Randall walked away without another word.

As he left the foyer, there was a figure standing at other end of the room. It was the very monster mentioned was leaning against a wall, braiding her feelers with boredom. No one else seemed to notice her…Randall inhaled sharply. _Not again…_ He hadn't seen the hallucination in almost a week; and never in such a public, crowded place before. _Just when I thought she was gone._ He kept his cool and walked right past her.

The vision of Suzie only watched with disappointment.

Meanwhile, Mike Wazowski was left with more pieces of the puzzle. The whole conversation was quite the eye-opener. Now he knew exactly who the rest of those ex-banished monsters were. Having one turn out to be a member of that Python Nu Kappa sorority was a shock. And although the big, red-skinned monster had looked like a retired Scarer, he sure didn't act like the criminal type. Mike thought about these facts as he returned to the reception desk. Randall's personality still seemed the same, but _something_ about his attitude had changed. Over the last several weeks, Mike had noticed the lizard to be less of a sneaky, glory-wanting pain-in-the-backside. Randall was even acting friendly towards fellow coworkers at times; the frequent conversations with Jeffery Fungus were evident of that. A few monsters were even spreading rumors about the reformed Randall.

Mike thought about it all, trying to come to a conclusion. After all the lizard had done in the past, it was hard to believe anyone could change. But such a thing wasn't impossible. "Maybe Sulley was right." Mike wondered. Perhaps being banished with McKeen and those other monsters had been a good thing to happen…"Maybe my old college friend is still there, somewhere."

…

Randall managed to avoid his former rivals for the rest of the day. Those two, along with the receptionist, were bent on learning more about Suzie. But Randall wasn't having any of that. There was already an imaginary version of her following him around. Did all these interrogations have to come, too? There was also no sign of the vision for the rest of the day. What a mercy. Even that night, sleeping in the backyard tree, no nightmares arose. His sleep was dreamless and relaxing. When he climbed down during the orange and gold-lit sunrise, he saw Rex standing at the trunk's base. The boy was waiting patiently for his uncle to come down. "Morning, Uncle Randy! Do you see the ghost anywhere in the yard?"

" _Why_ do you keep asking me that every day?" Randall jumped the last few feet onto solid grass.

"'Cause it's neat!" Rex whipped his one-fronded head in all directions, searching the yard for any werid sights. "How come I haven't seen her yet?"

Randall sighed without answering and began the walk up to the kitchen door. Rex followed eagerly.

"I searched the whole house already," he said. "Even Dad's room—he's still sleeping. But nothing's there. I haven't told anyone about her, just like I promised! Aren't you proud of me? You said she's only talked to you once, right? And the rest of the time, you just see her standing around somewhere?"

"Yeah. And hopefully she'll never speak to me again." Randall groaned. There was a fun day with the rest of the gang coming up. It certainly couldn't go haywire if he started seeing and hearing things that weren't there. Rex kept babbling on; he didn't seem to understand how disturbing it was to have a dead friend hanging around that no one else could see.

…

The shooting range was in the outskirts of Monstropolis. Out here, the city morphed into countryside with less and less buildings and more open space. There was more sky visible, and whenever one breathed in the outdoor air, the smell of the city was not present. No exhaust fumes, with the scent of trees and freshly mown grass. The four monsters were glad to get out of the city for a bit; even Naomi, even though she complained about the increase of bugs out here.

The Chaney Shooting Range was a popular place, far from residential areas where not so many trees grew. It consisted of one large building for indoor activities, with enormous open fields out back for more long-range sports. The parking lot was already half-full when the gang arrived. Bernard had driven them all in one of his family's vans; a big, shiny new one that easily fit his gorilla-like frame.

"Ah! Fresh air," the older monster exclaimed when he slammed the door shut. "Just the thing to do us all some good. Sometimes, I really miss being out in the wild. I still can't stand the smell of the city. I don't know if I'll ever get used to it." He glanced at Becca as the others got out of the van. "Are you up for a few quick-fire rounds, Becca? There's nothing else you would enjoy more."

Becca smiled forcefully. "Let's just get going. It's been ages since I've used one of those target throwers."

"They have those here?" Naomi asked as they walked up to the entrance. "Aren't those machines that fire stuff into the air like a tennis-ball launcher?"

"Yep. Clay pigeons are extremely hard targets; the perfect challenge. It's like trying to shoot a fly."

"Archery first, though. Randall's on my team!" Knowing he had honed skills with bows and slingshots from the gang's hunting days, Naomi pulled him aside. "C'mon, let's go!"

Bernard chuckled at their enthusiasm as he held open the door.

The monstrous décor of the facility wasn't to everyone's taste. Randall instantly preferred the outdoor settings of the Human World. At least out there, the scenery was better. But he decided to give the place a chance and toured it with the others. The shooting range had a lot of security, which made sense considering the numerous weapons on the premises. Cases of fancy firearms were on display, along with trophies and photographs of famous marksmen who had won contests and tournaments. The building had different wings for small practice with handguns and pistols. A lot of monsters were here already, wearing noise-muffling headphones while taking lessons from instructors. There were also indoor archery ranges, too. Although these were less noisy, they were just as crowded, if not more.

The gang of former outcasts had some short sessions in the wings to warm up. Becca and Bernard tried out the short-range gallery using pistols, but such an event wasn't much fun compared to their old ways. They were used to being outside for this sport. That made it far more interesting and fun. (And a good deal less ear-splitting.)

"Why don't we head out to the field?" Bernard suggested after a while. "I reserved one of the target-spitting machines for us."

"Excellent description, Bernard." Becca joked with sarcasm. She jabbed a thumb towards a few strangers sill firing through the protective glass shield. "These guys can't even hit a bullseye. I'd like to see them try to hit a moving target!"

The range had several massive fields out back, all side-by-side, far more suitable for what they wanted to do. Compared to the echoing walls of the main building, it was a haven. Bernard staked out a good spot for them that was perfect; no other groups were around, so they were free to be as loud as they wanted. Security monsters still roamed the grounds in full uniform, but other than that, it was just them out in the field.

The four had several contests. First an archery match with distant stationary targets—Randall had some trouble with distance because of his bad eyes. But he wore glasses and ended up going against Naomi in the final round. Much to everyone's surprise, she proved to be a good match. He won, but it was still a close tie.

They all took turns with bows and arrows before switching to firearms. That's when Becca's demeanor changed. Instead of merely attempting to be cheerful, she became cheerful naturally, without trying. She grew more relaxed, and her smile was more genuine instead of forced. The others all noticed and were glad today was doing her some good.

Flying targets, or 'clay pigeons' as they were also called, consisted of round, clay disks that were launched into the air by a machine resting on one side of the field. It acted in the same manner as a tennis-ball launcher. The attendant responsible for working it made sure the group of friends had a steady stream of targets.

"Whew, Becca was right. These are a lot harder," Randall observed once he had taken a turn with a shotgun. "Did I even hit any?"

"Just eight out of twenty," Naomi shrugged. "Better than me. They _are_ like little tiny bugs flying around, aren't they?"

The sound of firing rang out for several more rounds. Each time Becca stepped up, she never failed to amaze, hitting every single clay pigeon. She had always been a perfect shot during hunting expeditions in the past, and she still impressed everyone with her superb shooting skills. Even the nearby security monsters applauded. It gave her a boost of confidence and she soon challenged Randall to a quick-fire round.

"It's times like this when I really miss my slingshot." He said, referring to one of his own invented weapons. Becca subsequently creamed him in the contest.

All the troubles and worries back in the city melted away. Randall was having fun out here. It was a welcome stress-reliever, and with such a great distraction, there was less chance of Suzie appearing out of nowhere. Whenever he took a break from shooting, he took off his glasses as a precaution; he wasn't taking any chances. Seeing her out in this field while they were all enjoying themselves would be terrible.

The fields were divided up by low stone walls, about a meter tall. Becca sat down on one of these to watch a faceoff between Bernard and Naomi. They were taking their own turns at the clay pigeons with trepidation. After a few shots, Bernard started getting the hang of it, but Naomi was utterly hopeless, barely hitting anything. She was getting so frustrated that she was on the verge of a temper tantrum with her three eyes lighting up in red.

Becca found the sight hilarious. She motioned for Randall to join her for a break and set down her shotgun in the grass. "Think she'll start pulling out her own hair soon?"

"Most likely," They watched Bernard fire at another disk, shattering it to pieces. This only made Naomi more irritated, though. Randall perched on the low stone wall to watch, right next to Becca. It occurred to him that this was a good chance to try and talk to her. She was sitting casually with her legs and tail dangling down, finally at ease. It was good to see her looking happy. Such a thing had not happen in a while, so he asked coolly, "So, how is your mood today? Any better?"

She smiled naturally this time. "Yes. This was a great idea. Princess Naomi came up with a decent plan for a change."

"Good." He began, intending to bring up a touchier subject. Having heart-to-heart conversations like this was difficult. The last thing he wanted was to rile up her temper. So he chose his words very carefully. "You know, Becca, ever since we returned to Monstropolis, you haven't been acting like yourself. One minute you're happy, the next you're miserable; do you ever think things will go back to normal?" Becca made a frown. Before she could argue back, he set things straight. "Cool it. It's just a simple, honest question. Don't think I haven't noticed how you've been lately. Even at the factory, I can tell you're not quite right."

She didn't get a chance to respond right away, for Naomi triumphantly shot a clay pigeon just then. "YESSS! Did you all see that?!"The lavender-haired monster jumped up and down in excitement, punching the air in victory.

Randall and Becca applauded. "Perfect shot! If only it wasn't the twelfth one." Becca then turned back to Randall. "I don't know…Being truly happy again is going to be impossible, Randall. Now that Suzie is gone."

"How so?"

"Can't explain it…on a busy day when I have distractions, have plenty to do, and when I feel the slightest spark of joy—there's a little voice in my head that keeps on saying: 'How? _How_ can you be happy when Suzie is dead?'" Every feeler drooped as she gazed off at the big, blue sky, staring at nothing.

Randall wasn't sure if she needed space. Perhaps he shouldn't have brought it up…so he scooted a bit closer and put an arm around her as way of apology. It was the first time he had ever hugged her; Becca had always been emotionally strong and tough, never letting anyone close. To see her like this, so sad and fighting to stay in one piece, was terrible. With Becca's attitude, he expected to be pushed away any moment. But much to his surprise, she leaned in a bit closer.

Normally not one for hugs, Becca accepted. It was rare when anyone hugged her; even Bernard she didn't allow too close, despite his kindness and fatherly presence. But a shred of comfort was just what was needed right now. So she didn't push Randall away. She let out a sad sigh. "I wish you could have saved her…" She sensed Randall's posture going stiff. "That came out wrong. What I meant was—"

"That there could have been more time. I get it." He finished, looking regretful. "Sorry; I shouldn't have brought it up. C'mon; let's have another round of clay pigeons. Might take our minds off things for a bit."

"OK; Good plan," Becca hopped down from the wall and retrieved the shotgun. "We should have more days like this. This makes it seem like everything's gone back to normal."

 _You have no idea how much I want that to happen._ Randall discreetly checked the surroundings for any sign of the vision. The grassy field was still just that: a field, with no royal-blue, scaly aquatic monsters in sight. There was no sign of her anywhere. Just talking about Suzie could be a trigger for making her appear. There was a sinking feeling that the vision would show up sooner or later. If she _spoke_ to him a second time, that would be another nightmare come to life. But for now, he could breathe and take it easy.

…

It had been several weeks since the conversation with Suzie in the kitchen windowseat. Long enough to recover. There had been many glimpses of her around the factory hallways since, and even in his own home. Sometimes only a blink, sometimes a few seconds, and sometimes she would appear as a barely-there shadow that flickered out of sight when he turned to look at it. But the hallucination hadn't actually _spoken_ since that evening in the kitchen. Randall hoped she never would again.

 _Yeah, right…what wishful thinking…_ He thought one day. Another bad dream had come last night, one of a vengeful ghost version of Suzie coming to terrorize them all, with Becca screaming, blaming him fully for the death of her little sister. He had woken up in such a frightful state he'd nearly fallen out of the tree. The dream had left him very disturbed. _Maybe my conscience is trying to tell me something._

So upon heading through the doors of the factory that morning, he made up his mind to head out through a door today. It was time for a solo visit to Suzie's grave.

The place was serene, peaceful, and completely devoid of humans. The highlands of Iceland were very picturesque in the spring. Randall had sneaked Bernard, Naomi and Becca into the factory on a few occasions to visit the hills. With Fungus' help, the friends always managed to go out and visit the place with no one else the wiser.

But Randall felt an urge to go alone this time. Perhaps it would help put his mind at ease. And his guilty conscience at rest. So, without even asking, Randall ordered Jeffery Fungus to follow him to the old secret lab of the factory. As always, whenever the Iceland door was used, Fungus protested.

"But sir, that door isn't even registered; it's technically unauthorized." The stammering chicken-legged monster pointed out as they entered the hidden workshop. "It should have been destroyed with all the other banishment doors."

"Hey, you helped me build it, remember? If it's found, you'll get into just as much trouble." Randall dragged the secret portal out towards an old station that was set up in the corner. "Get over here and help me set this up."

"OK, but you and your friends have got to stop these visits. Someone is going to find out about them, I just know it!"

The door was very heavy, built of thick wood that was elaborately carved around the border. Randall had constructed it in a hurry shortly after the gang's return from the Human World. With the shock of losing one of their own, the secret door was made without even the question being asked. Randall had resolved to become more trustworthy, and he had promised them all to be able to visit Suzie's final resting place. But Fungus was right; eventually, someone would find out of this door's existence and have it destroyed…so Randall vowed for the gang to keep visiting the gravesite for as long as possible.

"Any idea how long you'll be, sir?" Fungus pushed the button so the red light above the door lit up. There was a bizarre-sounding hum from the old control console.

Randall gave the machine a swift punch and the humming stopped. "Stupid station. I really should start working on those preliminary designs…" He then answered Fungus, "I won't be out there for long. Give me an hour. Or until the other maintenance guys notice I'm missing. Cover for me, OK?"

Fungus nodded in earnest. "Don't worry about a thing, sir!"

"And one more thing, Fungus. You can stop calling me that, you know." Over the last few weeks, they had been getting along well. Fungus had always been more of a minion in the past, always doing whatever he was told, no questions asked. But now things were different. Fungus could almost be considered a friend. Almost; it was getting there.

Fungus nodded. "I'll bring the door back online in an hour then, Randall. Have a nice visit out there—" Here, Randall gave an evil-eye glare. This was supposed to be a solemn occasion, going to a burial site. Fungus realized his mistake. "Sorry."

As Randall shut the door behind him, a huge wave of relief was felt. He had never come out here alone before. This was exactly the medicine needed to put the nightmares at ease: by facing the source of them. He turned around to gaze over the highlands of Iceland.

Springtime was a pleasant season for this part of the world. Despite being so far north, the island had beautiful weather of sunshine, wild green grass, and a soothing sea breeze blowing across the landscape. The air was a bit chilly, though not enough so that Randall's blood froze. He set out for the short walk to Suzie's grave. It was only a stone's throw away from the door—which stood bizarrely upright of its own accord in the grass. A sudden sense of deja-vu hit him like it always did. Being out here almost felt like visiting an old home. The sky was bright blue and impossibly endless; there were no trees at all on the highlands. The entire landscape consisted of hills and cliffs, with fields in-between. Even from the spot on the hill, Randall squinted to see a herd of reindeer in the distance. (He briefly considered hunting one just for old times' sake.)

"Nah. There's no sense doing that, anymore." He went in the opposite direction, towards a rocky outcropping of the hill. At its very edge, the grass descended into a cliff and dropped into the sea far below. It would be quite a tumble down to the shoreline.

Randall climbed the boulders to blow off some steam as he went on his way. A chilly sea breeze blew his fronds around, but he didn't mind. The wind whistled softly, with a cold bite to it. The sound of waves crashing into the rocks echoed all the way up to where he was. These were sounds that were hard to find elsewhere. It was ideal…alone, with no rivals, no worries, and no judging monsters staring at him every second of the day. Randall almost managed a smile.

Suzie's grave was camouflaged amongst a rock formation. He had buried her in winter, in the cold, hard earth, and hid the place with as many rocks as he could carry. There were now grass and flowers taking root in the cracks. This made it a prettier, more respectful place for Suzie. It was a good spot, too; with the edge of the cliff so near, a full view of the sea was given, and during winter, the Northern Lights could be seen from here. One of Suzie's requests during their travels was to see the Northern Lights. But then the fatal accident had happened.

Randall winced at the memory. That wish had never been granted…he had carried Suzie's body far inland, as far away from civilization as possible. One couldn't get much further north than this…he walked closer to the place to say a few words—

An unexpected sight made him stop.

Someone was already here. A royal-blue, scaly someone with an eel's tail, standing at the cliff's edge. She stood with her back to him so that the huge caved-in break on her skull was fully visible. Her hands were on her hips as she admired the cliff-top view. Only ten feet away from Randall...Although the chilly wind was blowing, her fin-tipped feelers remained stationary. He fought the urge to flee when she turned around to look at him.

"This is a great place. I wish I'd seen Iceland during daylight hours," She gestured at the cloudless sky. "The view up here is spectacular!"

Randall rubbed his temples and shut his eyes, willing the vision to stop talking. "Oh no…not this again…" He frowned at the vision. "Why do you keep showing up?"

"Hey, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?" Suzie hopped down noiselessly from the boulder she was standing on. She rushed in front of him when he turned to walk away, effectively cutting off his path. The grass did not move under her footsteps. "Don't ignore me, Randy! I'm only going to keep following."

"Why?! I'm so tired of seeing things that aren't supposed to be there." He snapped. " _You. Are. Not. Here."_

"Of course I am!"

"Nope." He turned again to avoid facing her. "The point of this solo grave visit was to be _alone_ and think for a while. About all the weird things that have been happening lately…"

"Like me?" Suzie said, a little sadly this time. She looked down at her own scales, knowing how dull and dead-looking they must appear.

"Yes. But it clearly isn't working. Just get out of my head!" He finally looked straight at the vision—and it was gone. Nothing there but empty Icelandic air and grass blowing in the wind. This was when he noticed how hard his heart was pounding. He took several deep breaths to stay calm.

He turned around slowly in a circle, to be absolutely certain he was alone. The gravesite sure _seemed_ barren…"Good riddance." He walked the remaining few steps to Suzie's grave and sat down in the overgrown, wild grass—and flinched when she suddenly appeared sitting next to him.

"Here's a joke: 'What starts with T, is full of T, and ends with T?'" she grinned. "'A teapot!'" But Randall's horrified expression wasn't the reaction she'd hoped for. "Oh come on, Randy, you must find that at least a _little_ bit funny."

He pulled at his fronds. "Ugh, what is wrong with me? My own mind is tormenting me…you are nothing but a hallucination."

"Are you sure? What if I'm not?" She became less joking when his face became full of guilt at the sight of her. "What's wrong?"

Without looking at her, Randall confessed the terrible thought on his mind. "It's my fault you died…if only I had gone for help sooner. Or if I had just been there when you fell…things would have turned out differently…What am I doing, talking to my own imaginings?" But he went on, anyway, standing up to pace around. "We _all_ could have gone home, instead of you ending up way out here in the middle of nowhere."

The vision nodded. "Yeah…it may have played out differently. But it's done, now. You can't change what happened." She gazed thoughtfully at the stones. "Look on the bright side; this place is beautiful, even if it is a bit cold out here. It's not a bad spot to be my final stop."

"How is that a bright side?" The incredible guilt felt like an animal eating him from the inside. The feeling was so painful and there was nothing that could be done to fix it. Suzie was dead and there was no bringing her back. Now this vision of her—weather it be hallucination or ghost—was telling him about bright sides? That sounded like something she would say.

But the vision seemed to understand. "This wasn't your fault."

"That's what the others keep saying. Bernard and Naomi are doing well, but Becca has taken it very hard…I can't tell if she blames me or not."

"She seemed to be in a good mood the other day at the shooting range," Suzie reassured. "She didn't seem to hate you then. She even let you hug her, and that's a rarity for Becca."

"How would you know about—" Randall started. _Oh no_. He really was losing his mind. "Are you going to follow me wherever I go?"

She shrugged with a smile. "Not all the time. Just enough to bug you."

"Wonderful…I don't know if you're a hallucination or not, but I'll ask you anyway. You seem capable of listening," Randall leaned against a large boulder while the vision remained seated in the grass. It was unnerving how real she appeared; no shadow, though. "What do you propose we do about Becca? That chat at the shooting range seemed to help a bit, but her mood is so erratic these days. One minute she's fiery, the next she's quiet and polite. Not even Bernard is sure what to do."

"You're on the right track. Try to get her to talk about my absence. Or tell her a good story about that's not so focused on me being gone. Um…how about the supply raid in France after you were hurt?" Suzie pointed to the scar tissue on his torso. "I had to go out searching for medicine all by myself. It was the first solo raid I'd ever done. I saved you, remember? Becca would have been proud."

"But _I_ didn't save _you_! And would that even work? Talking about you might just make Becca go farther downhill."

"Trust me." The vision smiled with confidence. "It'll take a long time for her to heal from this. That day at the shooting range really made her happy, you know. So you, Naomi and Bernard all need to be there for her. 'Stick together,' that was our motto, right?"

"Right…then I guess I'll try it. One of us has to bring up the rough topics sooner or later…" Randall sighed and gazed out over the cliffside, watching some birds fly across the sky. At the grave, the grass sprouting up through the cracks broke up the harshness of the rocks. Eventually, it might cover the site entirely, as if Suzie's final resting place had never been. Randall spoke to the image again, but did not look at it. "Something is still bothering me, Suzie. This is the Human World; it's real. And you look as real as ever right along with it. But _are_ you? I mean…are you _really_ here, or am I just imagining you?" He still wasn't sure if he was speaking to a ghost or not. He turned to hear Suzie's answer—but she was gone.

He was all alone, leaning against the rocks, full of frustration.

Another voice called out. "Randall?"

"What are you doing out here?" He questioned as Fungus came bounding over. "Who's watching the door? It hasn't even been half an hour."

"Don't worry, I left it open." Fungus pointed back at the carved wooden portal, standing upright some distance away. It was wide open and the interior of the secret lab could be seen. "Sorry to bother you, Randall, but the maintenance manager is looking for you. Another station broke down and it's urgent."

"Again? Geez, I can't catch a break…" Randall reluctantly followed. After this repair job, he was determined to begin work on those designs. The old door stations were getting more unpredictable with every malfunction.

As they left the Human World, Randall glanced over his shoulder in search of more hallucinations. But the hills of Iceland remained empty of any other monsters. So he stood up straight, focused on the present, and did not look back a second time. He wouldn't tell anyone about the eerie conversation. Well, maybe Rex. The kid would find this all very fascinating.

Anyway, the encounter had all been in his head…right?

…

The conversation played over and over again like a recording. Even with a big repair job to keep busy, Randall's mind was elsewhere. The vision had made some good points. _Be there for Becca, stick together to help her recover—Grrr…What am I doing?!_ _Listening to my own imaginings?_ He thought while leaving Laugh Floor D where he had been fixing a station for the past hour. _That was only my conscience manifesting as Suzie. Wasn't it?_

But another sight in the foyer told him otherwise. It wasn't quite fully formed; just a partially visible figure of royal-blue scales. Too alarmed to stick around, Randall quickened his pace back down another corridor before the vision could fully materialize.

Once Randall felt a safe distance away, he looked over one shoulder to see if he was being followed. The blue shadow was gone. He steadied his breathing and kept moving, more slowly this time to avoid suspicion from nearby workers. He didn't notice how hard he was gripping the tool box. It was a fight to keep a calm face.

This afternoon had most definitely been weird and disturbing. Maybe he should go and find Rex…at least there was one monster whom he could talk to about all this.

He retreated down a deserted hallway to think; nothing appeared to be following, living or not. "OK, just relax, just relax…" he said aloud, just to hear some words of reassurance. To be absolutely certain no one would walk in on an oncoming nervous breakdown, he made him himself invisible. It would look odd if someone stumbled across the tool box sitting on the floor, but he didn't care. He leaned against the wall and took off the hardhat. Now no know could find him. "This is getting ridiculous!" He said, several breaths later. "Suzie was not there. I am _not_ being haunted…but that would be better than going crazy, right?"

The figure appeared very suddenly. It only took a blink of an eye, and then she was there. Suzie was leaning against the opposite wall. She was looking directly at him—which was creepy considering he was invisible.

"Get lost!" he hissed angrily. There was no way this was real. "If I admit you're really there, it'll prove I'm insane!"

Suzie was calm as she smiled. Despite her dead appearance, her expression looked exactly the same as when she was alive: completely unbothered and happy. "You're not going crazy, Randall. Just keep your promise and try to help my sister, OK? I'll see you later!"

Randall pulled at a frond, shaking his head to clear it. When he blinked again, he was alone in the hallway once more. Slowly, he rematerialized and looked around, but the vision was completely gone this time. Now he was left even more confused. "'See you later.' Humph…That's what I'm afraid of."

 **Up next: A few more surprises and Randall's father will be making an appearance. Also, more 'ghost' Suzie. For now, it's not going to be clear if Randall is imagining her or not; it's entirely up to the reader to decide. Hope you enjoyed this part and I'll see you next time!**


	10. Ghostly Words

**Woo hoo! It's time for more 'ghost' Suzie, imploring Randall to put more effort into helping Becca with her depression. All while Randall is growing suspicious as to just _why_ Suzie is showing up so often. With Rex growing ever more curious about her, it was fun to include him in the conversations. Not much happens in this part, but this part is still very important, since it is the setup for things to come in later chapters. I was also asked about what happened to Rex's mother; although she's not in this story, Rex and Randall give a few hints as to where she is. So, without further ado, please read and enjoy! :)**

Chapter Nine: Ghostly Words

Try as he might, Randall simply _couldn't_ bring up the subject of Suzie. Every time he saw Becca, he meant to. The task nagged at him constantly but he never said anything. This was partly because he was worried of damaging what progress Becca had made so far in her recovery, and partly because the hallucination of Suzie was starting to appear more and more. If Randall was in the kitchen, she would often blink into sight, sitting in a chair or the windowseat. While walking the hallways of the factory, she might suddenly be walking alongside him.

Worse still, the hallucination was being more vocal.

One day, while washing his hands in the mens' locker room, he looked up to see her in the mirror making faces at him and laughing her head off. That day had nearly been the last straw.

"This is really starting to get irritating," he frowned at the reflection. "Are you ever going to go away?"

"I can't! I'm in your head, remember?" Suzie was sitting on the sink countertop when he next blinked, ready to strike up a conversation. "Well, at least I _think_ I am…"

"If this _is_ a ghost I'm seeing…" Randall began, not wanting to admit the possible fact. "Why are you still hanging around?"

The image was quiet for a time, thinking hard about the question. That was indeed a tough one…"I don't know…My parents won't like it if they knew I was haunting you. It'd be good to see them again," she reminisced. "My dad died when I was so little that I barely remember him…" Suzie broke out of her melancholy stupor. "But there are still a few things that need to be done around here. Now that you, Becca, Bernard and Naomi are back where you belong, I guess I just want to make sure you're all going to be OK."

Randall rolled his eyes. "With your sister being so difficult—"

"Hey, that's just what she's like. And she's trying not to get depressed! You still haven't gotten around to talking about me! She's still denying the fact that I'm gone."

"'Cause she secretly blames me for it."

"No she doesn't—Randall, come back here!" Suzie called as he began marching away. "Something bad might happen if Becca doesn't get help!"

He didn't risk arguing back. There were other monsters in the locker room, and he could be overheard talking to thin air. That would be hard to explain. He was a good liar, and often talked to himself, but coming up with a story that would explain a whole one-sided conversation? Impossible.

…

Randall had to constantly be on the lookout.

The vision was showing up not only when he was alone, but in crowded places, too. So he was always conscious of other monsters nearby. With the exception of Rex, nobody was aware of what was going on. Rex had been practicing with his camouflaging abilities and sometimes walked in on his uncle talking to the vision. Sometimes the boy would spy for a few minutes before making himself known, fascinated by the invisible ghost. On another day in the kitchen, Uncle Randy talked right back to the ghost for a full ten minutes! It was weird…like hearing one half of a telephone conversation. Whoever the ghost was, Rex was sure she had been in the Human World, too. That much he had figured out.

Randall endured many non-routine days, with or without the vision's advice or lack thereof. Wazowski had been trying to talk to him lately, probably wanting more questions answered. That was sure annoying. At least Sullivan was busy keeping the factory running smoothly and didn't have time to be interrogating former banished outcasts. Randall always went invisible when catching sight of either of his old rivals in order to avoid them. It worked like a charm.

Spending time with Becca, Bernard and Naomi always helped him unwind. The friends were spending more time at the shooting range on weekends. Something about the clean, country air and firing contests made them feel right at home. It reminded them of the more carefree, stress-free times in the Human World. Times when there was no need to hunt, forage, or fight for survival. The other dimension may have been a place of exile, but other times, it was good to be out playing games like this. Becca's mood had greatly improved since the regular trips to the range; perhaps doing a sport she truly enjoyed was having a positive effect on her. This was another reason Randall hadn't brought up Suzie since that first visit; what if he ruined any progress she had made?

On one of the outings, Suzie's ghost—or whatever she was—showed up yet again during Bernard and Becca's turns with the clay pigeons. Randall flinched at the sight of her, almost going invisible with surprise. He glanced at Naomi sitting in the grass nearby; luckily the lavender monster hadn't noticed anything suspicious. "What are you doing here?" he hissed at Suzie in a whisper.

"This looks like fun! I want to watch!" she pointed as Becca made a perfect shot, shattering a flying clay disk into shards. It was at least sixty feet in the air and a good distance away; not an easy target. The ghost applauded proudly for her sister. Although Randall heard the clapping, it was obvious the others couldn't.

He sighed. Ignoring the vision was getting tough. He side-glanced at her, sitting there in the grass, only a few paces from where Naomi sat. It seemed so _real_ ; as solid as a living monster. But she cast no shadow and looked as terrible as the day she had died. When a breeze picked up, her fin-tipped feelers did not move, but his own fronds were whipped around by the wind. Randall found the sight unnerving to say the least, but in a way, it was also kind of nice. Bernard and Becca were poised with shotguns, waiting for the next round of clay pigeons, while Naomi and Suzie sat on the grass, cheering them on. Randall watched the scene with mixed feelings. They were all here…it was as if nothing had changed.

…

The plans for an updated door station were ready to be put into reality. Randall had gotten varying amounts of support from his friends and Samuel, most of them a bit apprehensive about the idea. Even after showing them the many, many sketches, technical notes, and final diagrams. Bernard had been the most encouraging, but also warned to use caution. "Remember what happened before, Randall. Some monsters at the factory may not fully trust you, still." Randall had taken the warning to heart; Bernard was right. Back in the Human World, the group had kicked him out after learning of his past; trust was a very big part of their survival. Randall couldn't let something like that happen again with stakes this high.

Naomi was very interested in the project. She even brought up a few (not very good) ideas to add to it, courtesy of memories from college. Becca, on the other hand, was more pleased with the endeavor. "I say go for it, Randall. We all have to do something big to prove we're not criminally insane, right?"

Randall agreed with that statement. After all that had happened in the past he was determined not to blow it.

Samuel still wasn't fully onboard, but allowed Randall to begin tinkering around in the garage. It was late one afternoon, and Randall had dug up the tools—which included a blowtorch—and scrap metals smuggled out of the factory's massive door vault. He was working on making miniature models for now, figuring out how to fit certain pieces together before moving on to the full-size version. The new station design he had envisioned wasn't as bulky or heavy, with a narrow-beamed frame, futuristic-style control panels, and an overall sleeker look. The project would get more technical as progress was made, but he was confident it would work.

The makeshift workshop was small. Being in his home garage, it was cramped and messy, with the tools and scrap parts laid out in a more-or-less organized fashion. The garage door was open, and even though Sam had taken the car, Randall had had to push all the exercise equipment to one side of the room so as to have enough space.

Several pieces were welded together on the table. Some attempts had worked, some hadn't, but that was why small scales were wise to begin with. "Ugh…this is more complicated than I thought it would be…" He talked to himself, getting impatient.

"Uncle Randy!" Rex's voice called from outside. "How's it going? Can I help you yet?"

"No! I told you, this sort of thing is too dangerous." Randall lifted the face-mask and turned off the blowtorch. "I'd better lock these up somewhere later; can't have a kid playing with things like this. That's just _asking_ for the house to be burned down."

While he worked, he kept an eye on Rex. Sam was teaching a psychology class today and had left the kid here. Babysitting wasn't one of Randall's favorite things to do, but Rex was good at entertaining himself. He was out on the driveway, coloring with sidewalk chalk to make it a mosaic of pictures and patterns. Randall had firmly ordered him to stay out of the garage. _Like that'll last. With the camouflaging gene, I bet he'll sneak in here at some point._

As he donned the facemask again to cut a large sheet of metal into smaller ones, an eerie feeling of being watched overcame him…

Sparks flew up noisily as the saw rotated…but the feeling didn't go away. So he stopped working to look around the garage. If Rex had crept in, he'd have to send him to his room—or however Sam punished a kid that could disappear at will. Randall lifted the mask and turned off the saw…nope. Rex was in sight, still on the driveway, coloring. But that could only mean…

He turned around to see Suzie strolling casually about the room.

"Not again…"

The vision was looking at the open sketchbook and the final station design on it. "This is awfully commendable, Randy," she admired. "Building something that'll benefit everyone in the long run. You're determined to prove to everyone you've changed, aren't you? I think it's great…" Her attention turned to the welding tools. She reached out a scaly hand to touch one. "What does this one do?"

"Don't touch that!" Randall started, forgetting that she was only a hallucination. "Is this going to be a regular thing? You popping up out of nowhere when I don't want you to?"

She shrugged. "Probably. So, have you spoken to your dad about all this?" She gestured to the entire workshop. It was obvious these plans were growing bigger as time went on. "By the sounds of it, he seems like a pretty busy guy."

"Yeah, he is." Randall set down the saw. "Always working at that observatory, watching the skies for a living. But he's coming by in a few days. I'll tell him about all this when he does…"

"Worried about it?"

"No!...Well…Maybe a bit…my father and I don't have the best relationship. He's one of those hard-to-please parents." Randall reluctantly admitted. Suzie was just a figment of his imagination, so what was the harm in spilling a few secrets? "But, this is a useful little project. And with better intentions this time around; much better than a scream extractor. It's sure to get some sort of approval."

Suzie chuckled. "Just like Becca is a hard-to-please sister. Before we were banished and when I was in school, she was always pushing me to do better and try harder; that sort of thing." She climbed onto the tool bench, somehow finding a space to sit down. "How is she doing?"

"You're asking me _again_? She's doing better. The days at the shooting range really help. We've gone there a couple of times, already."

"Good. I want you to keep it up, OK? Don't forget to try and get her to talk about me. That'll be a major hurdle, but it's necessary in her healing."

Randall cringed. That was easier said than done. "I'll get to it when I can! That's the worst topic, ever. One that's sure to do more harm than good. Bringing up sensitive subjects like that has never been my strong suit. How do I know Becca won't just—"

"Whoa, calm down! Don't get all stressed-out about it." Suzie put up her hands. "Just relax and bring it up naturally. Have Bernard and Naomi nearby, if you must, but you've _got_ to mention me at some point. It's important."

"Why? Everything's fine right now. Bernard and Naomi are better medicine then I am. I see no need to rush." Randall leaned against the worktable, dreading the prospect. He turned to look at the hallucination, still unsure if she was a ghost or not. All of the pressure she was putting on him was raising his suspicions, too. "Whatever you are, there's something you're not telling me. Do you know what's going to happen to Becca? Will she ever get better?"

"How should I know? I can't predict things. All I'm saying is—"

"Suzie always was a terrible liar. Why don't you just tell me what to do?"

But instead of spilling the beans, the vision cracked a smile and tried to lighten the mood. "Here's a better idea: This is a good joke: 'Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?...Because he was outstanding in his field.'"

His deadpan expression didn't falter. "Not funny, Suzie. Even when you're dead, you still have a weird sense of humor. I shouldn't have left that joke book in Iceland…" He preferred moments when she would go on about the latest novel she had read.

A toy ball flew into the garage, nearly knocking over the table. "Hey! Watch it!" Randall snapped. "You could have broken something and I only just started this project!"

Rex peeked around the corner. "Sorry. Not sure which leg kicked it in here…" he pointed to each of his four legs. With the driveway half-decorated with chalk, he had started kicking a ball around for fun. He fetched it and turned to face his uncle. "Who are you talking to?"

 _Wonderful. He must've heard the whole thing. Whatever_ I _was saying, anyway_. Randall tried to explain rationally. "Uh…"

"The ghost, right?" the boy said excitedly. "I knew it! Aren't you ever gonna tell me what her name is? Is she a nice ghost or a vengeful ghost?"

From her spot on the worktable, Suzie piped up. "Say 'vengeful,' Randy! It'll make me sound so much cooler."

Randall rolled his eyes in disagreement. "Oh, please, you are the least vengeful monster I know. And don't you go knocking stuff over, too." He realized the boy was here, watching intently with fascination. _Whoops._ _Big mistake._ "I can explain, Rex—"

"So only you can see her, still? That's pretty scary." Rex stared at the worktable. Nobody was sitting there. "I thought I would've seen her by now…she hangs around the house a lot, right?"

 _Tell me about it._ Randall reassured his nephew quite calmly. "Don't worry, she's not scary. I doubt Suzie could be scary even if she tried." The vision looked offended. "What? You couldn't."

A lightbulb suddenly lit up in Rex's head about the ghost's identity. "Hang on, Uncle Randy…Dad told me about this. 'Suzie' is the name of your friend who died!" He jumped up and down to celebrate solving the mystery. "Isn't she the Becca lady's sister?"

Randall groaned. "That's her. And now I'm seeing her everywhere I go. She won't leave me alone!"

"But isn't it neat to talk to her again?" Rex tossed the ball to Randall for a round of catch.

"Well…" That was a good question. He pulled at his fronds with a single hand, using another to toss the ball back, all while wondering how to answer. Talking to someone he knew to be dead wasn't exactly a _good_ thing. Was he going crazy or not? Even now, Suzie was watching and waiting to hear what he would say. "Well…um…it's good to talk to her again, I guess. It's helping me patch a few things up, and figure some stuff out."

He blinked several times to will the vision to go away. But she was still sitting there! Now looking mighty pleased after that confession.

Rex kept on tossing the ball back and forth. "The Becca lady is always sad or mad when she and your other friends come over. Do you think she misses Suzie? I bet she does. If _you_ suddenly disappeared, I know Dad would miss you, Uncle Randy. But you'd still have me!" the boy grinned. "And Becca still has…uh…who?"

"Nobody."

"Oh. That's sad." The boy immediately began thinking hard on how to solve the problem.

"He's got a big vocabulary for his age, doesn't he? How many kids know the word 'vengeful?'" The image of Suzie got up and walked closer to Rex. Randall went on playing catch with one hand; seeing them stand side-by-side was hard to handle. She looked so solid that he almost dared her to walk through a wall, just to see what would happen. But instead—and much to his horror—Suzie leaned _against_ the garage wall to keep on chatting. "Hey Randall, where is the boy's mother? Didn't you mention your brother being divorced?" she asked. "When we were all banished and living in Yellowstone, it took forever to coax the truth out of you. You were still kind of a jerk at the time."

He frowned. "I wasn't around when it happened, but yes. Sam was deemed the more suitable parent, and ended up with everything. He thought she would stick around on account of, you know…" Randall nodded at Rex, who turned to look at the wall, still hoping to see the ghost. "But she just packed up and left, like the whole marriage never happened. They haven't heard from her since."

"Wow. That's pretty thoughtless."

"You're telling her about my mom, aren't you?" Rex clued in. He didn't seem the least bit upset at the topic and looked at the spot on the wall, where the ghost was supposedly standing. "It's OK, Miss Suzie. I don't mind! You can ask Uncle Randy about anything you like."

"Thanks, Rex! Now, about my sister, Randall," Suzie began. "We've got to do something quick, before—um…nevermind" she faltered suddenly. "And I think I know a few ways on how to help her well-being—"

"Must you answer the kid back? He can't hear you, you know." Randall sighed.

"Well, it's fun to pretend."

Something grabbed Rex's attention all of a sudden. "Look! They're here!" he waved to some monsters who had just come into view. Before he dashed away to greet them, he turned to Randall and whispered, "Don't worry, Uncle Randy. I haven't told anyone about Miss Suzie and I never will. I promise!"

Rex crossed his heart with all four hands. It usually took Randall an excruciatingly long time to trust kids. But his nephew was the one exception.

The visitors were Naomi and Bernard, with Bernard's granddaughter sitting high up on his shoulders. The little girl, Penny, was about Rex's age, and was a stocky yellow monster with the beginnings of a colorful feather crest on her head. A few sharp angler-fish teeth stuck out from her mouth, just like her father and grandfather. Evidently she had inherited the Brennen's gorilla-like frame as well. She and Bernard were laughing together as she held on for the piggyback ride. Naomi was in a miserable state, though. Her grey waitressing uniform was dirty with all manner of food crumbs and coffee splatters. And her perfect lavender hair was a regular birds' nest, now. Randall was about to laugh—then he remembered the ghostly visitor.

Suzie wasn't disappearing. He hissed at her, "Get out of here!"

"Why? They can't see me, and you and I are still talking—"

"Not with the others hanging around! Rex knowing about you is awkward enough." Randall panicked inside, but outwardly acted as normal as possible. When he next blinked, the vision had gone. Hopefully for a while. _Whew. Good riddance._

Bernard set Penny down and she and Rex instantly hugged in a friendly greeting. "Yay! You're here! C'mon, I'll show you all the neat pictures I drew! I left some space for you, too…" he chattered, leading her to the pile of sidewalk chalk.

Randall addressed Naomi's disheveled appearance. "You look exhausted. What happened?"

Naomi complained in her prissy, pampered way. "Ugh. Don't get me started! An idiot spilled hot coffee on my hand, hence the burn-mark, I mixed up at least ten orders of pancakes, and a couple brought in their five screaming children during lunch. My ears are still ringing a little."

She went on about her terrible day as Randall took the blowtorch up again to fuse some more pieces together. She and Bernard sat on another bench to watch him work. It was fascinating to see just how determined he was about this project. Bernard couldn't resist commenting. "So you're finally getting started on this idea of yours?" He reached for the sketchbook and examined some of the equipment. "I didn't think you would. But sitting on the sidelines never seems to be your style, anyway."

"Careful. Some of us are trying to weld." Randall warned when Bernard's hand got too close to the flame.

"Sorry. You know, if you plan on making a full-size version at the factory, you'd have to clear it with James Sullivan."

"I realize that. But I'll worry about that big oaf later. This is still in the early stages." That was a hurdle he'd worry about when the time came. The big blue idiot was nothing more than an easily-avoidable nuisance these days. A far cry from the former rival that had to be faced on a daily basis. Randall finished up with the piece he was working on and asked the others, "Where's Becca?"

"She went out somewhere. I told her when to come, so she should be here by now," said Bernard. "It's not like her to be late. So while we wait, how about the rest of us get started on that pizza?"

"Yeah! You said you'd show us how to make the gourmet crust!" said Naomi. "I've been on my feet all day and I'm starving."

"Sounds good. I could use a break from all this, anyway." With so many things happening lately, Randall had nearly forgotten about this evening. The plan for a pizza-and-movie night was perfect for the weekend. It would just be the gang, with Rex and Penny included; the kids would play together all evening, so Randall didn't mind them hanging around. Just so long as they didn't get underfoot. He quickly packed up the tools and called out. "Hey, Rex! Penny! We're heading inside, so move it to the backyard, OK?"

"Getting along with your nephew. Huh." Bernard marveled as everyone moved through the house. "Never thought I'd see the day when that would happen."

Randall shrugged. "Yeah, well—I have to watch him when Sam's out teaching. The kid just takes some getting used to. And it turns out he and I have a lot in common."

"Like knowing about me?" Suzie materialized in the hallway.

Randall inhaled sharply, but kept on walking as if nothing was there.

In her happiness, she didn't seem to want to disappear. "You guys are having a _pizza night_? I want pizza, too! I haven't eaten any since high school. That was before I was even banished!" She popped into the kitchen ahead of them, watching as Randall led the others in. "You were quite the chef when we were lost in Europe, Randy. So of course this will be delicious."

Bernard and Naomi were still talking, giving no sign they could see or hear her. Randall became worried. If she was going to stick around all night, it was going to be hard to act normal. The situation would be all the more difficult once Becca got here…

The friends pitched together, gathering ingredients to prep while Rex and Penny went running around in the backyard. Randall kept a watch on both of them; his resolution to be a better monster included keeping promises, and Sam had made him promise not to let Rex climb the tree. The brothers had a feeling the boy would try one of these days.

The hallucination disappeared and Randall relaxed, now able to focus on other things. _Please don't show up again, please don't show up again…what am I thinking? Of course she will!_

Naomi was still telling of her hectic day as she brought out the pizza pans. "Oh, and wait until you hear what happened when one of the cooks burned one of the major orders, today. It was a stack of forty pancakes, at least. The manager must have come close to exploding!..."

Bernard laughed at the story—while Randall became distracted by Suzie blinking into view yet _again_. She looked a tad annoyed. "Why are you just standing around, Randall? You ought to go out, find Becca, and drag her scaly butt over here! Or she'll miss the whole evening! She needs you guys, remember?"

"This had better not go on all night…" Randall said aloud to the hallucination.

Thinking he was speaking to her, Naomi replied, "This won't take too much longer. What can I say? I like to chat."

When Becca arrived shortly after, she came around the back of the house through the kitchen side door. Every step she took was tired and forced. Her emotions could not be read; overall, she seemed very neutral, but forced a half-smile upon entering the room. The kids suddenly ran inside with boundless energy, nearly knocking her down.

"There you are. I was starting to worry." said Bernard. "Where have you been?"

"In that park near your castle of a house. I was just out walking; nothing special. I needed some fresh air, that's all." Becca put aside her moodiness and joined them at the island countertop, looking at all the weird ingredients spread out. "So, what are we making?"

Rex climbed up on a chair. "Uncle Randy's ' _gore-may'_ pizza. Whatever that means. But don't forget, we gotta leave some for Dad when he gets home."

"Can we take some home, too, Grandpa?" The stocky little Penny gazed up at Bernard.

The love in his eyes was so tender it could have melted anyone's heart. Bernard was so caring of his granddaughter, and helped her onto a chair, too. "Of course we can. C'mon, sweetie, let's get started."

Randall had always liked cooking and baking. In the Human World, most cooking sessions consisted of roasting freshly killed birds, fish and other game. (Alligator meat was a staple in the swamps.) On some occasions, he would sneak into a house to steal herbs and spices. Here in the Monster World, ingredients were far different: squid ink in assorted colors, bite-sized eyeballs, vegetables in odd shapes and textures, and sliced meats that weren't a hundred percent fresh. One bonus to being a monster was ability to eat pretty much anything.

Randall taught them all how to made a delicious pizza crust, made with special herbs mixed in to give it a good flavor. Everyone made their own pizza—Rex's and Penny's were a bit lopsided, so Bernard helped them with any messy parts. Naomi got very creative with the toppings on hers, using a combination of meats and sauces that looked very tasty.

All through the pizza-making, the vision of Suzie kept reappearing.

It was so annoying…Randall fought to ignore her when she came close. With everyone else here, he didn't want to look like a lunatic by responding. But she was making it very difficult…At one point she stood right beside Becca, who gave no sign that she even sensed her presence. Randall found the sight hard to bare—seeing the sisters side-by-side again made his guilty conscience even more so.

"That must be the most expensive pizza ever, the way you're piling on the fancier stuff." Becca observed Naomi's work.

"My food, my rules," Naomi shot back. "Can I have more of the purple sauce, please?"

"No way! There's not much left, and I want some, too."

"Girls, don't make me break up a fight…" Bernard warned.

Randall chuckled, glad that the evening was going well. A feminine giggle sounded out all of a sudden—he gazed around in alarm without looking too conspicuous…Suzie was sitting on top of the refrigerator. He almost scolded at her to go away. _Grrr…like that'll go over well. She knows I can't say anything back! Not with the others here._

"Some things never get old, do they?" she laughed at the ongoing argument between Naomi and Becca, who were having a tug-of-war with the jar of pizza sauce. "You'd better say something to her soon, Randall. How hard could it be, getting her to talk about me?"

 _Why are you being so insistent about this? There has to be a legitimate reason._ His conscience was trying to tell him something…or maybe Suzie was trying to warn him from beyond the grave. _Yeah, I prefer the former._

When Becca was done spreading toppings, she went over to the kitchen table. Suzie rematerialized right alongside her. The older sister sat down, looking drained both physically and mentally. And the younger sister, only a mere vision in Randall's mind, sat down across from her without even pulling out a chair. The vision looked imploringly at him. "I don't want my sister to feel all alone, anymore. Even now, with everyone here, she's still not as happy as I'd like her to be. Please, say something to her!"

He wanted to answer the ghost's plea, but held his tongue. It was plain to see that Becca was fighting off depression as hard as she could. Losing Suzie had been so rough on her…he was unsure what to say, but the hallucination was right. Now was the time to try and bring up the hard stuff…hopefully Becca wouldn't kill him.

The kids were making an absolute mess of the kitchen, and Naomi and Bernard went on helping them with pizza-making. They were all distracted and wouldn't butt in right now. So Randall sat down in the chair beside Becca. "Hey."

"Hey." She glanced once before turning her gaze back to the sunlit window.

That was hardly a promising start. Randall wondered how to speak to her. All evening, she had been merely _acting_ cheerful, when she clearly wasn't. "You're in a not-so-pleasant mood today. What happened?"

"Nothing special…It's been pretty quiet, so I sorted out more of Suzie's old things; all of her novels, and junk." Becca explained of the huge quantity of Suzie's science-fiction books. "It was tough, and I mean _really_ tough. The walk in the park made me feel better, but…don't tell Bernard, but I'm thinking of going to see a therapist."

"Really?" When Bernard had suggested counselling, she had stubbornly refused to even consider such a thing. Randall offered some support. "Sam has private counselling sessions at the factory on some days; he's always been a good listener, for as long as I can remember. Even I tell him my troubles, and we don't even get along that well." The fact didn't seem to reassure her. So he took a deep breath…it was now or never. "You know, Becca…if you ever want to talk to _me_ about Suzie—"

"What?" she turned to face him swiftly, suddenly fearful. "This isn't the time or place, Genius!"

"But when it _is_ the right time and place," Randall kept his voice low so the party at the countertop wouldn't hear. This was a very personal conversation and it wouldn't do for the kids to hear, either. "I'll listen, too. Remember, her being gone hasn't been easy on me, either. You keep forgetting I was actually _there_ when the accident happened; the guilt is so great no one could possibly imagine…" He did not to look at Becca when mentioning this. If she secretly blamed him for what happened, he didn't want to know. "Talking about it would do us both some good. So think about it, OK? The offer always stands."

Becca's expression was hard to read at first. It was completely lack of emotion…but eventually, she gave a small smile and nodded. What he said made sense, after all…But not now. Everyone was ready for an evening of pizza and movies. And there would be no rest at all with Rex and Penny around.

Both Randall and Becca joined the gang at the counter. She remained quiet, but there was thoughtfulness in her eyes. She was considering the offer; that much was obvious. There was no remorse, nor protest from her, but also no sign that she would be willing to endure a long discussion about what had happened that day. It made Randall worry; perhaps the offer to talk wasn't such a wise idea? Had it been the right thing to say?

He subtly looked around for the hallucination. Whatever she was, ghost or not, she was trying to guide him in the right direction. In a single blink, he saw her standing in the doorway, motioning for him to follow. Everyone else was busy getting food into the oven, so he slipped out of the kitchen easily.

The vision was standing across the hallway, in the living room. "Well, that was a start, at least. Keep at it. I don't want Becca going farther downhill. So if she doesn't take up your offer tomorrow, try again, OK?" she said shakily, with plain worry in her voice.

"OK, sure…" Randall spoke in hushed tones. The vision was _never_ going to leave him alone unless he put more effort into fixing things around here. He said to her, "You were her only family. Do you think Becca will ever recover?"

"I hope so." Suzie sighed. "I haven't told you this, Randall…but if you don't talk to her soon…" she crossed her arms, the broken one still crooked, and gazed at the floor. She seemed very distressed and fearful all of a sudden. "I'm really worried something bad is going to happen."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he whispered.

"Nothing. I just—know. I can't explain it."

This was getting frustrating. He frowned. "You're showing up so often, there must be some reason other than to nag. Are you a ghost able to warn me, or is my own mind just being paranoid?" But when he next blinked, the image had vanished. The room was empty; he even reached out with all four arms to see if she was still around. But there was no sign of her.

Those final words had left him confused. And perhaps a tad fearful, himself.

 **We are closing in on the halfway point of this drama. :)**

 **Up next: things get tense when Randall gives all the details about the day Suzie died. (A never-before-written flashback!) Rex tries to fix things on his own with mixed results, and Mike Wazowski learns more of what the group of former outcasts has been through. Hopefully this won't take too long to write. :) See you then! Feel free to review, but as always, keep it clean and politely-worded. Please and thank you!  
**


	11. Making Amends

**Double Update! Yay! Sorry this took so long, but that's what happens when you're trying to write a good drama. :)**

 **Tons of stuff happens in these next 2 chapters. Working with the main theme of the story, Randall and Mike start rebuilding their friendship, and Zachariah Boggs finally makes an appearance. (He made a brief appearance towards the end of HW: An Adventure) All while 'ghost' Suzie keeps showing up to try and warn Randall about something very important.**

 **The never-before-written flashback I mentioned won't be happening until Chapter 12. My game plan changed. :) Anyway, I worked super-hard on this double-update and hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Ten: Making Amends

"I don't know, Randall," Fungus said as he read over the diagrams. He took another bite of a sandwich and turned to Randall in doubt. "Another machine? The last one wasn't really a big hit, you know."

It was lunchtime and they sat in the midst of the crowded cafeteria. The room was always jam-packed at this time of day. Foods like steamed vegetables, spiky fruits, and towering fried sandwiches made with all manner of ingredients were being served, or else monsters just brought their own equally bizarre lunches. All around, monsters of all shapes and sizes, both Scarers and Laughers alike, filled the room with loud conversation. Randall and Fungus were in the middle of it all. It was safe enough to talk about the door station project here. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own socializing that it was unlikely anyone would overhear such an important talk.

Randall argued his case, wanting to get Fungus onboard with the plan. "This is different. But I'll need some help to get it up and running. I'm working on a small-scale version to work out any kinks, and a full-scale one will take a lot more work—"

"Oh no! No, no, no…"Fungus stammered and ate the sandwich faster, already nervous about the prospect. "Getting mixed up in secret evil plots again is a bad idea! Things are different around here, now! I manage several Laugh Floors; if I go right under Sulley's nose with something like this, and end up getting caught—"

"This isn't an 'evil plot,' Fungus." Randall insisted. He took back the sketchbook to skim over the final design. It would work; he was sure of it. "This will be good for everyone; even you complain about all the station glitches around here. It's about time someone did something about it. Plus, a new design will give the factory a much-needed upgrade. These old ones have got to be at least forty years old."

"How are you going to build it? The secret lab isn't exactly a secret anymore. Sulley is sure to find out—"

"It won't be a _secret_ plot either!" Randall snapped, his patience running out. "Before I even get started on something full-scale, I plan on getting approval for this. No one here may like me very much, but Sullivan will see sense." The blue buffoon he would always despise, but at least the guy was a reasonable sort who would listen to the full story before making a decision. Randall hoped that was how it would go, anyway. "Or I might end up back in Louisiana."

"The swamplands?"

"Yeah…Nice place, but I don't want to live there permanently. Not when I can prove any monster can change." Randall pulled out some separate papers from the sketchbook's pages. "Here. This is a copy of my design, along with every technical detail, down to the last wire. Look it over if you're so paranoid. With help, this thing could be built in a couple of weeks! So think about it."

Fungus took them, but still seemed unsure.

This was frustrating. Randall fought his temper, trying not to lose it, but it wasn't easy. Was Fungus going to help or not? _I don't really blame him, honestly. Last time I talked him into helping with a project, it didn't end so well…_ Randall thought. After the scream extractor incident, it was no surprise that the stammering red monster would be reluctant. Fungus didn't want to have his position at the factory threatened, while Randall wanted to try and shed an old reputation. They went on debating over the course of the lunch hour, both arguing a good case.

Another surge of rain and wind made the power bump; all the lights in the cafeteria flickered for a moment, but stayed on. The flickering made Randall think of ghosts, for some odd reason…he squinted around the room, but nothing was amiss. The power bump caused monsters to look up in alarm, or groan at the thought of working in the dark, but Randall saw no blue-scaled aquatic monsters among them. He exhaled quietly. _What a relief…Suzie's been following me everywhere lately._

Fungus took the copied plans in the end, but he was still hesitant. "OK, I'll read them over. But don't expect me to go behind monsters' backs!"

"Don't worry, I'll get clearance for this. Just read it; that's all I ask."

The rain outside picked up again, pounding so loudly on the cafeteria windows that monsters were switching tables to get away from the glass. Randall thought this amusing and chuckled. "They're nervous about a little rain. This is nothing."

"How come?" Fungus asked.

"Back in the Human World, the gang and I faced far worse storms then this. Especially in Yellowstone. Now we're just grateful to have roofs over our heads." The memory wasn't a pleasant one, but today's stormy weather was laughable in comparison. "Want to hear about the lightning storm that brought down our campsite?"

Fungus listened aptly. "Sounds exciting! What happened? I'm guessing it was last year?"

"Exciting, yes, but fun? No. Listen, it was the middle of summer, and Naomi and I were out hunting. As usual, she was complaining about pretty much everything from the dirt on the ground to the flies in the air. And we were half a day away from the others when the thunderclouds started rolling in…" Tired of all the frustrating talk from earlier, it was good to be discussing something else. The purple lizard became very animated in the re-telling of last year's storm. He and Naomi had been forced to shelter in an abandoned wolf's den until it was safe enough to travel back to the group. Lightning had even felled a few trees during the night, and it was by far the rainiest, windiest time of their lives.

Randall and Fungus went on talking all through the rest of the lunch hour, recounting the adventurous tale. The tension regarding the door station project was put aside.

Without really realizing it, the two were slowly becoming friends. Despite his short fuse, Randall's reformed character meant he was more tolerable these days. His resolution to change wasn't very obvious; his personality was far from different, but his morals were certainly better. Fungus was the only one who he spoke to on a regular basis, and he was positive Randall was indeed trying to be a better monster. Maybe the long stretch in the Human World had done him some good.

…

The rain had been going on for days already, but today was by far the worst of it. Even an occasional thunderclap sounded out. As Randall went about the afternoon, doing routine maintenance tasks and safety checks, he noticed even some of the tougher Scarers being startled by the summer storm. When he went onto a Scare Floor, he witnessed a nine-foot-tall, sharp-toothed cat-like monster jump about three feet at a thunderclap. Randall couldn't resist snickering in amusement. Back in banishment days, he had endured far worse, and he had had to live outdoors.

Later, he was asked by the maintenance manager to repair a station on Laugh Floor B. It was only a minor thing—some buttons on a control panel needed replacing—so he hurried over to get it done quickly _. Laugh Floors…still a stupid concept even if it_ does _generate more power._ He reconsidered for a second. _But maybe I can use some of the extra power for my project…_

The clownish acts, jokes, and party-like chaos nearly drowned out the sound of rain on the skylights. Randall, with a hardhat and toolbox in hands, rolled his eyes. He preferred the seriousness of a Scare Floor any day. But he was here to do a job, and wove his way through all the monsters making fools of themselves.

Much to his annoyance, Mike Wazowski was here.

The green, one-eyed cyclops was on the other end of the room, waiting for his assistant to call down another door. Randall donned some glasses and made his scales a cranberry red color, so as not to be too noticeable. Last thing he wished was yet another interrogation; Wazowski just wouldn't lighten up and relax! Every day he accused Randall of plotting something foul or getting revenge on him and Sullivan. Randall was utterly sick of it! He wasn't here to cause more trouble; he was only here to fix a station. (Actually, payback on Sullivan didn't sound so bad. But he didn't want to risk getting in trouble. Not after all that had happened.)

The repair job wouldn't take long; just replace the control panel buttons with ones that wouldn't jam so much. Randall was being ignored, thank goodness, and completely forgot about his old rival for a time. He just tinkered around with the machine, working. Laughers went on pulling their party tricks and comedy acts all around. As annoying as this was, Randall tolerated it all with as much patience as one could muster.

That is, until Wazowski came up to the broken station to chat. Randall didn't even notice until he spoke, and flinched in surprise.

"There you are! I've been searching high and low all day, just waiting until you showed up somewhere," the cyclops said, talking loudly over the sound of whoopee cushions in the background. "I was starting to think you were sitting around, just being invisible for the heck of it."

Randall faded back to purple with a sigh of disdain. "What do you want, Wazowski?"

"I wanna know what's going on." He accused. "Sulley, Celia, and I were having a perfectly normal chat in the hallway, when all of a sudden Fungus comes over and starts blathering on about some engineering project. A bit nervously—could hardly understand him with that stutter—showed us drawn blueprints and everything. He said it's a project that _you_ had come up with."

 _Ugh._ _I should have told him to keep quiet!_ Randall rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. "That guy just can't keep his mouth shut."

Wazowski went on. "The whole thing was written down and everything. Complicated stuff, too. Fungus wasn't sure to inform us or not, but he did. So now you're caught!"

"No, I'm not." Inside, Randall was maddened with all of these suspicions. He kept his temper in control and explained. "I haven't even _begun_ the project. I can't, anyway, without clearing it with Sullivan, first."

That came as a shock. The cyclops was dumbfounded at the lizard's statement. Whatever was going on, Mike was only getting more confused. "Huh? What else could this be except some new scheme of yours?"

"No! This isn't like that," Randall insisted, slamming the toolbox shut. "Is that what you think? That I want to take over the factory and rule supreme?" He then said to no one in particular, "Ugh. Why am I asking; it's what _everyone_ thinks, isn't it? How hard is it to gain some trust around here?" He should have seen this coming. Monsters all over the building were whispering behind his back, spreading rumors, avoiding him, accusing of wrong-doings…All accept for Becca. But she had the day off today, and wasn't even here to listen to his troubles.

What he wouldn't give to talk to Bernard right now…The rest of the Brennens—Nicholas, Lucy and Penny—had left town this week, having flown to Bela Island to buy a yacht, of all things. The older monster had stayed behind, though. Today Bernard was sitting with Rex today; the boy had caught a cold from all the stormy weather this week. Now was the perfect time to give Bernard a quick call for some much-needed advice. So Randall packed up his glasses and began walking off the Floor.

But Wazowski was too curious to let this one go. He dashed after Randall before the lizard could make a quick getaway. "Well, you did try to 'revolutionize the scaring industry' by working for Waternoose. Kidnapping human kids is not exactly a positive vision, am I right?" A burst of random confetti made them both duck.

"And it backfired. Yeah, yeah, I get it," Randall didn't stop walking. "But I'm trying to make up for that; believe me. After a sentence of extreme isolation, you'd understand why I want to try and fix things around here."

"Why should I believe you?"

So Wazowski was still wary of his motives. Randall stopped, frowning slightly with crossed arms. How was he to prove to this bothersome former rival that everything was different now? The long stretch of banishment had changed him; even the rest of the gang knew that. But Wazowski was proving to be harder to convince. Randall came up with a sudden idea. It was a bit radical, but the gang knew him for coming up with crazy schemes. "C'mon. I'll prove it to you."

"How?"

"We're going to the swamps."

"What?" Wazowski came to a halt. Maybe he misheard. But there was no mistaking the seriousness on Randall's face. "You're joking!"

"Nope. This'll be a quick trip; no one will even notice we're gone. Then you can see exactly where I ended up, where I had to live and what I had to go through. Then maybe you'll understand why I'm trying to turn a new leaf, so to speak. And why I _don't_ want to end up back there." They passed Jeffery Fungus as the red, bean-shaped monster was coming onto the Floor, carrying his clipboard. Randall commanded, "Fungus! Lab. Now."

"Yes, sir!" Fungus jumped to attention.

Wazowski found it pathetic that the Laugh manager was so wishy-washy. He pointed out to Fungus, "You realize you don't have to take orders from him, anymore."

"Sorry. Force of habit." The three of them left the Floor. Randall walked slightly ahead, giving Fungus a chance to explain. The sketches for Randall's upcoming project were attached to the clipboard, and Fungus flipped through them again. "Mike, I think he's telling the truth. Really! You should look through these. I'm not too sure about these plans—about the outcome, I mean—but these are very well-thought-out."

"So you say. How do we know this isn't some complicated lie?" Mike quickened his pace to catch up to. "Randall, the CDA will arrest you and toss you into one of those extreme isolation cells. The kind that has no comfortable chairs."

"Already been there, in a sense. And have gotten used to it." He shot back, leading them through the factory corridors. "This won't' take long. Let me show you where I was that first year; it'll give you some perspective."

Mike was suspicious. But he kept on following; he was curious to see if indeed any monster could be redeemed.

…

The 'secret lab' was more of an isolated workshop, now. There was a whole stash of forbidden doors here, with walls of tools and tables of random machine parts scattered about. No one else ever came in here. Randall and Becca often snuck Bernard and Naomi inside so the gang could visit their favorite spots in the Human World, while Fungus acted as the group's watchguard. The lab also had its own station—one of more ancient ones of the factory—set up in the corner. It was the most temperamental machine Randall had ever had to deal with. The thing had a mind of its own! But he tinkered with it and now it would stay online whenever it was commanded to. One of the collected doors was the ornate, carved wooden one leading out to the Iceland highlands. But Randall didn't plan on visiting Suzie's grave today.

Others in the secret stash led to various places in the Human wilderness. Places that the gang had lived in during their time out there: Yellowstone Park, a Texas beach, Amish countryside, and even a few places before Randall had joined the group. The Arizona Desert, for instance. And a Brazilian rainforest where Bernard had first ended up all those years ago. Randall explained which door led to where as he and Fungus searched for the right one. "…and this one goes to the French countryside, on the Camargue. Pretty isolated place, but Suzie and I managed somehow. Here it is…the swamp door. One of them, at least."

"There's more than one?" Wazowski asked, looking through the selection. "Why do you have all of these, anyway? Fungus, you're a part of management, now! If you're holding doors that should've been shredded—"

"Y—yeah. I—I—I know, Mike. But there's really no harm," Fungus stuttered as they carried a plain, brown door over to the station. "Randall and his friends often head out there, and these doors aren't even being used, anymore. N—no one will even notice they're missing; most of these don't even lead to closets."

Mike was surprised that they had actually constructed and tested new doors in this lab. The sneaky lizard must have spent a lot of extra hours in here, just for his friends to have places to go for some downtime. Maybe ex-banished monsters formed some sort of attachment to the Human World after living there for so long.

"This one leads to a kid's room; he's gotten too old to be scared of monsters, so it's destined for a shredder, anyway. I haven't had time to construct anything that leads to the place directly, so we'll have to be a little sneaky." Randall instructed, hooking up the plain door to the station. "Fungus, you know the drill. Bring the door back online in an hour."

Wazowski darted his gaze from Fungus to Randall, startled. "Huh? This is a normal routine?"

"Hey, I may not live out there anymore, but I still like to head out for a good round of tree-climbing. Sneaking through the kid's room will be easy. So stay close and don't dawdle, got it? Let's go." Randall stood ready and waiting, as if this was an average walk in the park.

"Whoa, what? Right now? You may as well be saying 'let's go walk on the moon.' I never head in beyond a kid's room! Unless the parents come in and it's time to hide. Where exactly are we going?"

"I told you; to the place where it all started."

The way it was so casually spoken raised yet more suspicion in Mike Wazowski. Was this some scheme to abandon him out in the Human World as revenge? The one-eyed monster pulled Fungus aside; if something foul was going on, he would tell the truth. The chicken-legged monster listened to Mike's worried rambling before reassuring, "Not to worry, Mike. I'll stay right here until you get back. Word of honor!"

But Mike still wasn't sure. Going out into the wilderness of the Human World, all to prove a point? "This just seems a bit extreme, Fungus. I'm not going to catch some weird swamp disease, right? 'Cause 'death by swamp-water' doesn't exactly have a great ring to it. Alligators would be just as bad…" Just then, Randall cleared his throat, grabbing both of their attentions. The old station was lit up and running smoothly, despite its weathered appearance. Mike thought for a moment—if Randall was indeed trying to turn a new leaf, he _could_ be telling the truth. It was possible…After all, they had once been friends long ago. He had been perfectly trustworthy back then.

So Mike decided to give him a chance. "Alright, alright, I'll come. But no tricks." He turned back to Jeffery, while pointing a clawed thumb at Randall. "You I trust, Fungus. Him, I'm not so sure about."

…

It was dark in the cramped room. Being a part of a trailer home, everything tended to be very confining. The closet was impossibly small. The boy could not even fit another shoe inside, since it was so stuffed already. The door was shut, but one more item would have made it burst open. The rest of the room was cluttered with sports equipment, more clothes, action figures, and a guitar. The bed was squashed against one wall and looked more like a mound of blankets what with all the dirty clothes piled onto it. The boy himself was buried here somewhere, sleeping soundly with a goofy grin on his face as he dreamed. The window was wide open to let in some summer air. With the sound of crickets from outside, and a moonlit glow shining into the bedroom, the atmosphere was peaceful. Not a single thing could have disturbed the boy's sleep.

The closet door opened a crack. A sliver of light shone through into the room for a moment. It grew bigger, as if someone was opening and shutting it quickly in order to slip inside.

The boy stirred for a second when the light shone across his face, but did not wake. He just rolled over in his sleep and lay still once beam had gone out.

Two monsters were hidden in the shadows. One tiptoed amongst the piles of clothes and other junk, trying not to step on anything. The other one had much more expertise at sneaking around, climbing the walls like a gecko.

"Stay close to the wall." Randall advised, impatiently waiting for Wazowski to reach the window. Things weren't made easier when the one-eyed cyclops bumped into a guitar stand. The stand fell onto a pile of clothes, which cushioned the sound, at least. "Shh! If the kid wakes up—"

"Well, excuse me, I can't exactly disappear at will!" Wazowski hissed. "Normally when we head into closets, we're _supposed_ to be waking them up! It's a whole different game, sneaking around like this."

"Just hurry up." Randall slinked through the window and hopped onto the grass outside. Windows were always the quickest escape routes. Many burglaries—or supply raids, as the gang always called them—had been committed via window. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get back."

Wazowski clearly had never been sneaky to this extent. He climbed through the window as clumsily as possible, grunting with the effort it took to pull his spherical body through a rectangular space. But the sleeping boy inside did not wake up. As a precaution, Randall blended into a dark camouflage pattern. Until they were out of the trailer park, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The community was small; only a few dozen homes with even fewer cars. Only one road led out of here. All was very still, this being the middle of the night. But there were a few windows lit up and faint noises from televisions drifted out on the night air. A good many dogs slept outside. This always meant trouble; even invisible, Randall had had to be extra-cautious in the past. Animals may not be able to see him, but they could sure smell when something was amiss. With Wazowski tagging along on this trip, though, Randall decided to take the long way out of the trailer park. He kept moving through the tall grass towards various hiding spots. He was camouflaged well; even the keenest set of eyes would have trouble seeing him.

But even the best hiding spots weren't ideal for Wazowski. Ducking underneath porches or cars was impossible, because the cyclops didn't quite fit. So they dashed through overgrown lawns, staying away from sleeping dogs, and ducking between trailers to hide in the shadows. There was a close call when a drunken man came stumbling out of his home, ranting on about overpriced string bean casserole and other nonsense. Randall went invisible on instinct and pushed Wazowski back behind the trailer. "Get back! Even the crazy people have to be watched. They'll start firing at you if you're spotted."

"Firing?" Wazowski repeated. He watched the man stagger about on the lawn. "You mean these people have guns?"

"A lot of them do, yes."

Wazowski then began asking questions about such dangers, ones that Randall didn't feel much like answering. Gunshot wounds were no strangers to him; the near-fatal one was still very fresh in his memory.

The two monsters kept going. Soon, the trailer park was left behind and they hurried out into the darkness of the swamps.

It was a typical summer night out here: cricket songs everywhere, fireflies glowed in the gloom, and biting flies had to be swatted away on a regular basis. Moss-draped trees made up most of the landscape. They gave the scenery a mysterious, yet peaceful air. Because the nearest town was several miles away, it was very quiet, all lit up in the moonlight. The silvery sheen over everything made it easier to see, at least. If any dangers were around, the moon would illuminate them.

Randall knew the best spot for alligators in these parts was the river, which could only be found by following the stream in the opposite direction. He led Wazowski further into the trees, crossing the stream by using rocks as stepping-stones. The cyclops subsequently slipped and fell into the water. Randall sighed with exasperation. He crossed his arms, leaning against a tree, to watch him climb onto shore, coughing up dirty swamp water.

"Wherever this place is," Mike spluttered. "It had better be worth all this trouble!"

The moss-draped trees kept them safe from humans, but it was by no means less dangerous. Wild animals like raccoons, rats, and possums ran past often. The cricket songs were louder, making other animals harder to hear. Snakes were the worst. They made the most appearances and made Wazowski yelp in alarm every other minute, it seemed! Randall just kept walking coolly. He was completely unperturbed by all the dangers. The dark, shadowy stroll through the overgrown wilderness was perfectly fine. What was Wazowski so jumpy about? It was just like Naomi, who complained relentlessly about pretty much everything in the outdoors.

When they reached thicker woods, the air became heavy with croaking frogs. Randall was forced to slow down; Wazowski was wary about this place, and walking with much trepidation. All those Scaring classes back in college must have been forgotten. Or perhaps he hadn't put the lessons into practice for a while. He jogged to keep up. "Slow down! This place is dangerous." He called, jumping over a mossy log.

"Not if you know how to survive. It's dark out and we kept to the shadows," Randall nodded in the direction of the trailer park. "I doubt anyone saw us, and if they did, they'll think they imagined it. Adult humans are easy to fool; they don't _expect_ to see monsters around, so they just dismiss it. C'mon," He motioned for Wazowski to hurry. "It's only a short walk from here." Moving through the swamplands was easy. One only had to know where to go and where to step in order to avoid predators. Randall had done this countless times before.

Wazowski tripped over logs to keep up. A few reptilian hisses sounded out, making him jump. "Are there many more snakes out here?"

"Duh. It's a _swamp_. Anyway, snakes are nothing; make good appetizers, though. It's the gators you need to watch out for."

"Looks like they already chewed you up real nicely." Mike looked at all the scars and bite-marks Randall bore. He pointed at the large patch of scar tissue on the lizard's left side. "How did that happen? That doesn't look like a bite mark."

But Randall didn't give an answer. He scoffed and quickened the pace.

"Slow down! What are you trying to do? Strand me out here?" Wazowski complained while tripping over tree roots. "If I get lost out here, my Schmoopsie-Poo will most certainly form a search party. I demand to know where we're going—Ah! Snake!" He jumped backwards as a particularly thick one slithered past.

Randall rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You talk far too much, Wazowski. C'mon, keep up. The sole purpose of this trip is to show you where I ended up. After you and Sullivan tossed me through that door. It'll give you a new perspective." _And get off my case, too._

"Oh boy. A hike through a bug-infested, snake and gator-filled mud pit."

"You wouldn't complain if you had to live here."

When the ground became mossy and soft, Randall knew the stream was widening. That meant more trees and more wilderness up ahead. The journey to the place he had in mind was getting close. While in exile, it had been chosen for its proximity to the trailer park; close enough for supply raids, yet far enough away to avoid detection. The journey there had been made so often, Randall felt he could have walked it blindfolded.

…

His former home consisted of a tiny clearing, the old tree, and the few fallen logs lying around in the grass. Even faint traces of the old campfire ring were still there. The place was untouched, even after all this time. These woods were very thick and wild. It was unlikely humans would travel in this far, but some of the old sound alarms still hung in the branches. Sound alarms had been Randall's way of alerting him to any intruders. They were just strings of tin cans rigged up to tripwires on the ground, but they were very effective. Wazowski even tripped on one as they entered the camp.

The tree was an ancient, twisted thing. It had always been Randall's safe haven: the biggest tree in the area, with many nooks and crannies for storing food and supplies. Its branches intertwined at the top of the trunk to make a flat hollow big enough to live in. The foliage was so thick that even a big monster could have hidden up there and not be seen from below. Randall went to the base of the trunk and peered up. Although hard to see in the shadows, he saw traces of his collection of tools stolen from the trailer park. Even the first slingshot he had ever built was wedged in the branches.

He turned to Wazowski, beckoning him over to the tree. "This is it. We're here."

"Where is here?"

"The glade; this tree. It's where I ended up in the beginning." Randall reminisced. "No matter how many times I come out here, it sure is weird being back…"

"Here?" Mike then noticed collections of tally-marks all over the tree. Some clusters were on the trunk, and some were outlined by moonlight on the branches. The lizard must have been keeping track of the days. "Geez…for how long?"

"Little over a year. I set off exploring the land from time to time, but I always came back to these parts. So I set up a permanent camp…Getting banished through a closet door; what are the odds? But I guess I should've seen it coming," Randall leaned against the trunk, folding his arms, still a bit cross about the whole thing. "I accepted what had happened eventually, though. Before, it was nothing except pulling all-nighters, hiding out near kids' closets, trying to get back home. I thought if a Scarer came through, I could get back that way. But of course, there was no such luck."

Wazowski circled the tree, looking to try and better see the camp that was up there. Hearing the story from Randall's point of view was different then reading about it in the newspapers. "So then what happened?"

"What else? I focused on staying alive. Hunting, fishing, foraging, stealing supplies from houses when possible—got pretty good at that. But I was really starting to lose it with no one to talk to. You can't imagine what it's like talking to yourself, day in and day out for over a year! The others were living more nomadic lives, going from place to place to avoid people. And I needed other monsters around before I lost my mind. So I joined them."

"You mean Rebecca McKeen, the big featherhead, and the girly girl from college?" Mike concluded while exploring the clearing. There seemed to be traces of an overgrown vegetable garden nearby. Had the lizard even grown his own food out here? Life must've been very harsh. "Plus McKeen's sister, whom I don't know anything about. I'm gonna presume your friends didn't just magically appear one day, looking to recruit an invisible thief for breaking and entering. Did they?"

Randall chuckled. "They kind of did appear out of the blue, actually. Naomi was wandering around one evening, gathering water. I found her quite by accident, and I followed back to their camp. She didn't know I was there, though. Then I just watched from the trees to make sure they weren't as insane as I was…"

Wazowski listened to the story of how the misfit outcasts met. How Randall had spied on them from the treetops; how he had not known just how many monsters lived in the group at first. When Mike asked how the outcasts reacted to Randall's first introduction, the lizard groaned. "Well, I believe Becca's first words to me were, ' _Who the hell are you_?' while pointing a shotgun at my head."

They talked for a while. Mike was finally beginning to understand what the outcasts had gone through, living out here. He asked a ton of questions about them, and was fascinated by how and why each monster had ended up banished: Naomi stealing scare points, Becca using doors unauthorized, and Bernard being blamed for an illness outbreak through his family's fishing business. Learning that Suzanne McKeen had only followed her older sister into the Human World was surprising. Mike was amazed and horrified that a teenager would do such a thing, and that the authorities had even allowed it. But hearing all this from Randall was even more shocking. He gave much more detail then the newspapers.

Mike jumped comically onto a low branch to climb up into the tree. Climbing was difficult, but he somehow managed to do it. The twisted tree had a lot of footholds, at least, and he saw the sheer amount of tools, weapons, and collected things from the trailer park up here. It was like a rustic treehouse, complete with living quarters and branches that led high up to offer a bird's-eye view of the swamp. The place hadn't been lived in for quite some time, now. Even though it was getting overrun with moss, there were signs that this had been someone's home. Pulley systems had even been constructed out of fishing supplies to better hoist things into the tree. Seeing all of this effort put into staying alive was a true eye-opener.

"There's only one more thing I want to know," Mike said once they were back on solid ground. "What happened to McKeen's sister? The papers never went into detail about it; all they say is that she died of an accident at sea—head trauma or something—and that _you_ were there. With everyone spreading rumors, I ain't sure what to believe! Not even Sulley can come up with a theory. Waxner is positive the whole story is a big, made-up sham, but you know how coo-coo he is. The guy thinks aliens are real, yet he can't wrap his head around what's printed in a newspaper." Mike paced around before turning to Randall for some answers. "She wasn't _really_ nineteen, right? That's just a kid!"

Randall looked regretful. An expression he hadn't worn since their college days, years and years ago. The lizard sat down on a boulder. He didn't seem to want to answer, but he tried, anyway. "It's complicated…but yes. Suzie was nineteen. And there was an accident at sea…We were stowing away on a ship, trying to return to the others after getting lost. During the storm, she fell and hit her head…" _And I couldn't save her!_

Talking about the accident was still difficult, but he _had_ to explain the truth. Wazowski was a talkative jokester, and very paranoid about him and his friends these days. Not to mention an old rival. They may have been friends in the past, but Randall was sure those days were ancient history. He wanted to go on telling more of what happened to Suzie, but trailed off and went silent.

"Well? Are you gonna tell me?" Mike asked. "Whatever happened to her must've been bad if you can't say more than a few half-sentences about it." Nothing seemed to convince Randall to go on. So the cyclops tried what he knew best: bringing up some humor. "C'mon, Randall; we used to be friends. Remember that one big party in college? You know, the only one I went to during that first semester?"

"I'm trying to deal with guilt and grief over the death of Suzie, and you bring up _that_?" Randall said, deadpanned.

"What I'm saying is we used to talk all the time!" Mike pointed out. "I did you a favor back then, when I went up to talk to that girl for you—"

"Ugh, why are you bringing _that_ up? That was a long time ago. And just because we used to be friends doesn't mean things are a-ok now. Former ex-banished 'Evil Genius,' as Becca likes to call me, and Top Laugher of Monsters, Inc., which is still a dumb title, by the way." Randall stood, ready to begin the walk back to the trailer park. "Maybe I really ought to go meet with my shrink brother. What happened to Suzie was my fault! The guilt is eating me alive! If you had only been there—" But Randall stopped, hesitant to relive that day. "Forget it. I'll tell you about it some other time."

But Mike pressed on, curious and wanting to know more. The death of that girl must have been a real turning point, even as horrific as it was. Randall was a stubborn one, though, and refused to go into greater detail. Much time had passed already, and the monsters couldn't stay out here for much longer. Randall used that as a logical excuse to leave. "Ready to head back? If that kid wakes up, it'll be harder reaching the door and Fungus can't keep it online for long periods of time. Not with the old stations acting the way they do."

Wazowski agreed. "Fine. This conversation ain't over, though. If you won't talk, I'll just ask Fungus."

"Do whatever you like, Wazowski. C'mon; if any early-risers or drunken idiots are wandering around, I'll distract them while you head through the kid's window, OK?" Randall led the way back through the mossy swamp forest.

The trip back was by no means less tricky. Randall returned to a moss-green camouflaged state to better stay hidden. But Wazowski kept tripping over every root in sight. The flies wouldn't leave him alone, either, so he slowed the journey quite a bit. At one point, he fell into a deep mud-puddle and kept slipping back down into it whenever he tried to climb out. It looked so funny that Randall leaned against a tree to watch in amusement.

"Are you gonna help me?" the cyclops spit out mud and a mouthful of grass.

"Nah. Think I'll just wait here." Randall chuckled. That was when he noticed a familiar presence standing on the opposite side of the mud-pit.

Suzie was looking more serious than usual. Her carefree attitude was all but abandoned as she scurried around towards him with a look of alarm on her face. "Glad I found you, Randy! This isn't exactly the best time to be making amends with enemies; you've gotta listen to me—"

"What are you doing out here?" Randall whispered as quietly as possible. He half-turned so that Wazowski wouldn't notice. The sounds of crickets and croaking frogs drowned out the words enough. The vision of the dead girl didn't make a sound as she ran through the grass. He scoffed as she approached. "That's a silly question; you're in my head, aren't you? There's no getting rid of you no matter where I go!"

But the vision ignored that statement. "Something bad is going to happen; very, very soon! There's this weird feeling in the air…" Suzie circled, braiding her feelers anxiously. Not a single blade of grass rustled from her movements. She was all just a hallucination in his head…right? Randall leaned against the tree again, watching Wazowski struggle out of the mud pit, completely caked in the stuff. The sight was amusing, but having a hallucination in the background was a tad distracting.

"Randall!" Suzie persisted. "I just _know_ it's something to do with Becca. You've got to go her!"

"I will! I've already offered the chance to talk about—your death." He managed to say. "All that's left to do is wait and see if she's ready to listen."

"Well, hurry it up. I won't leave you alone, otherwise. I'll just keep haunting you forever!"

"That's not funny." This was ridiculous…arguing with a hallucination? Randall refused to take this much longer. "You had better cut it out. There's no way Sam can know about you! He'll think I'm nuts! It's a miracle Rex doesn't think I am already—"

"Who are you talking to?" Wazowski finally crawled out of the mud, swatting at flies. "Talking to thin air is always a bad sign, Randall. There are enough weirdos working in the factory already. Don't tell me being banished made you crazy."

Randall side-glanced at Suzie—but she was gone. Mike looked concerned and it was a struggle to come up with an excuse right then and there. How much had the cyclops overheard? Randall scanned the nearby trees. There was no sign of the vision anywhere. One thing that still wasn't clear to him: was she all in his head, or not? He answered Mike with hesitance. "Uh…maybe a little crazy…?"


	12. Ghostly Warnings

Chapter Eleven: Ghostly Warnings

Meanwhile, back at the Boggs household, Rex was having an easy afternoon at home, indoors and out of the rain. The constant damp weather had given him a mild cold, and so Samuel had left him here instead of taking him to the factory daycare. The boy wasn't all by himself, though. Bernard was there to watch him for the day. With the rest of the Brennens were out of town for the week, and Becca back at the giant house being her moody self, he was more than happy to spend some time with the boy.

The rainstorm pounded loudly on the roof, so loudly that it sounded like a band of drums. Such noise made Rex a bit nervous, so he kept busy reading or playing with toys. With the imposing Bernard, who looked fearsome, but was actually very nice, all fears soon disappeared. Even with a cold and home sick, Rex was quite happy.

They were in the living room, coloring pictures to pass the time. "You're better at staying in the lines then me," Rex whined. When he was finished with a drawing, he got up and crawled onto the armchair. The cold made his voice a bit nasal, and he was exhausted from the fever. He complained to Bernard, "Why am I so tried? I don't wanna be tired. I wanna stay awake and have fun!"

"That happens when a monster doesn't feel well. They get tired so their bodies can rest and get better." Bernard explained. He felt Rex's forehead. "Your fever's going down. That's good! If you keep resting, I'm sure you'll be all better by tomorrow."

"Good. I want to try and help Miss Becca, too, and I can't if I'm sick!"

Bernard moved into the kitchen to get some snacks while Rex kept chattering. He was quite bemused at how articulate the little monster was, and listened as Rex went on. Soon the conversation moved to Randall, Naomi and Becca. For some odd reason, Rex had taken an interest in helping the gang deal with the bout of depression that was plaguing them. Well, Becca in particular. Bernard smiled his own toothy grin at the boy's determination; whatever Randall had said to encourage this, it was amusing.

From the armchair, Rex hung his head over the side to look at the room upside-down. "…but Uncle Randy says he doesn't want to talk to Miss Becca just yet; he's afraid she'll get all mad or something. He and—" Rex stopped for a second, almost saying the word 'Suzie'; the secret of the ghost had almost slipped. He recovered quickly. "He and I both want to help her, but _how_ are you guys helping her, anyway?"

"You're an awfully inquisitive youngster," Bernard complimented upon returning with a plate of pickled orange vegetables. They smelled like rotten eggs, but were juicy and delicious. Bernard answered the question with full honesty. "Well, we're doing our best. I really miss our Suzie, too, and so does Naomi; but for Becca, it's very hard. So we're making sure she keeps busy doing things that she likes. And we make sure to keep her company, too. With her sister gone, Becca has been very sad, so it's important to make sure she doesn't feel all alone."

Rex nodded, seeing the logic. "Do you think she's sad because her only family died?"

Bernard was again surprised by the boy's questions. These were big subjects for a child. After all, he never brought up heavy-duty subjects like this with his granddaughter, Penny. She was the same age as Rex, but a subject like this might upset her. But Rex seemed capable of handling it. So Bernard sighed thoughtfully. "Yes, I think she does."

"Hmm…" The boy pulled at the single frond on his head in thought. "I know! You could adopt her!" This made Bernard laugh, leaving Rex a bit confused. "What? Since her whole family died, she should just join a new one, right?"

Bernard swallowed another laugh. "I don't think that's possible. Becca is a grown-up; she's the same age as your uncle. And I consider her and Naomi to be my daughters already. The four of us all lived together in the Human World for the longest time, don't forget."

"Oh. Well, it was a good idea, anyway, right?"

"Of course it was. Just not the most practical."

"Don't worry. I'll think of something else." Rex grabbed a handful of the pickled orange vegetables. He would come up with another plan later. "Mmm. Thanks! Wanna draw some more?"

"Whatever you like, Rex. Now I can see why Randall enjoys talking to you." Even in regular conversation, Rex was certainly a character. Having such intelligent family members must be where his large vocabulary came from.

It was nice to be relaxing here, just keeping an eye on this one small monster. It gave Bernard a break from all the worries that were emerging as the weeks went by. The whole Becca situation could be stressful at times, and he hoped Randall planned to talk to her soon. The purple lizard had actually _been_ there with Suzie when she died; logically, Randall was the one who could best help Becca in her recovery. But he still hadn't said anything; either unwilling or stalling, Bernard wasn't sure. Hopefully Randall wasn't getting too distracted by that engineering project.

Neither of them noticed a presence in the house at first. Bernard was blissfully unaware, focusing on coloring pictures. But when Rex looked up to grab a new crayon, he thought he saw a faint shadow on the other side of the room…like a blurry image that had yet to come into focus.

Rex did a double-take…yes, there _was_ something there! Whatever it was had royal-blue scales…it didn't have any distinct form, but it kinda looked like a monster, walking around the living room…

Rex didn't say anything; only watched quietly. Bernard didn't seem to see it. Even when the shadow came right up to the table, the big monster did not even blink. Rex inhaled sharply. Was that the _ghost_ Uncle Randy had been seeing? Bernard was talking as he colored and didn't notice him going stiff all of a sudden. Rex swiveled his one-fronded headed from the blurry image—which was now pacing back and forth—to the big, red Bernard, debating what to do. If that thing _was_ the ghost…

Rex held his tongue. He couldn't tell anyone. He had _promised_! Getting Uncle Randy into trouble would be terrible…He squinted at the blue-scaled shadow to try and get it to come into focus a little more. But he blinked and it vanished.

…

Fungus miraculously managed to kick the old station back into working order. It had been well over an hour, a bit longer than the trek was planned to be, and the station had refused to power up. But Fungus literally kicked it, and the red light above the door glowed once again. Randall and Mike had had to wait for a bit on the other side. They were lucky nothing worse had happened, and returned to the lab without any more delays.

"Whew! You're back!" Fungus exclaimed as the closet door swung shut. "I was afraid this station might have another glitch and break down completely, or something."

There was an unexpected waiting monster in the lab as well. Samuel was pacing around the room, and promptly ran over to his brother. He put his hands on Randall's shoulders. The stare he gave was stern, yet joyously relieved. "Thank goodness. Don't be out gallivanting in the Human World anymore, Randall. I'd hate for you to get lost again."

"It's no big deal; I go there all the time with the gang."

"You do?" This was new to him. He knew they all went to visit Suzie's grave sometimes, but regular trips to other places, too? Sam noticed Mike Wazowski helping Fungus carry the door back to the forbidden stash. The elder brother asked, "You brought Mike out there? Why?"

"To prove that I wasn't exaggerating any of the stories. And to patch a few things up, I guess. We've known each other since college, you know." Randall explained. He doubted they would be friends again. But at least Wazowski would stop being suspicious and leave him alone now. That had been the trip's purpose all along. "Anyway, what are you doing down here, Sam? Don't you have counselling sessions in your office right about now? I'm sure all the stressed-out workers around here will appreciate their psychologist wandering off."

"I just did this—" Sam briefly went invisible and back again. "—and snuck away to find you. I had some spare time, anyway, and this is a bit of an emergency: Dad's here." There was a silent pause as Randall went stiff. "The receptionist called me. Dad's waiting in the foyer. Right now."

"Huh?" Randall groaned. _Oh boy. This day just keeps getting better and better…first dealing with Fungus, then Mike and now this…_

Sam started lecturing him on hiding the 'doors to nowhere' in this place. Nearby, Wazowski was talking to Fungus, presumably telling all about the trip into the swamps. Behind them, though, there was a blue-scaled figure quickly coming into focus. Randall tried to act normal…

She materialized on his next blink. The expression on her face was hard to read…edginess, maybe? She also had her arms crossed, hugging herself as if extremely worried about something. "Randy, I have to talk to you. Alone! Can't a meeting with your father wait for a bit?"

"No." Randall said, forgetting no one else could see her.

"Sorry. There's no backing out of this one," Sam replied, thinking it was only a stubborn protest. He put a tattooed arm around his younger brother's shoulders to lead him away. As an afterthought, he shoved the sketchbook of designs into Randall's hands. "This might come in handy in case he asks. C'mon. Dad'll probably just stroll right into this room without anyone the wiser if we don't go now."

As they left the workshop, the vision of Suzie followed the group closely. With everyone else unaware of her presence, Randall found it hard to ignore her. She was being so persistent! Why _now_ , of all times? She whispered to him. "I just came from your house; Rex almost saw me."

"What?!" Randall started. He turned his head swiftly to look at her, with plain alarm. Not the best reaction with everyone watching. His brother stopped in his tracks, and Fungus and Mike were confused.

Sam questioned. "Are you OK?" Turning to Wazowski, he asked with concern. "Mike, he didn't get bitten by something poisonous while you guys were in the swamp, did he?"

"Not that I know of." The one-eyed monster shrugged. "Boy, that time in solitary exile really did a number on you, didn't it, Randall? Sure, plenty of folks talk to themselves, but if there are imaginary friends hanging around—"

"I'm fine! I am just _fine_." Randall snapped, quickly maneuvering out of Sam's grasp. He cast Suzie an annoyed glare; she was making him look crazy!—but she was gone. How irritating…"Let's just get this over with. Without any more interruptions."

Sam, Mike and Fungus all looked at one another in puzzlement. What was all that about?

…

Fungus and Wazowski each left to go about their own afternoons. This was still a work day and both had Floors to manage and human kids to entertain, respectively. Mike was well on the way to setting a record for most laughs collected, and he didn't even have to try very hard. He hurried off to the Laugh Floors, planning to inform Sulley of the ex-banished monster's tour later. It had been a real eye-opener. There was hope that his old college friend was still there. And even if he wasn't, and all it meant was no more trouble-making from the ex-banished lizard, that was good enough.

The Boggs brothers wove through the throngs of monsters slowly to bide more time. The trip to the main foyer felt more like the moments before a nerve-wracking stage play; full of dread with a twinge of fear. Randall wasn't by means afraid of their father. Zachariah Boggs was a perfectly nice guy; just a bit of a know-it-all. But having a hard-to-please parent with high expectations had always made Randall nervous. He had tried to earn his father's pride and approval for over a decade, the climax of which had been the scream extractor plot. And look how that ended up…

For all these reasons, Randall would rather disappear. He actually did. Until Sam put an arm around his shoulders again before an escape could be made. "Ah, ah, ah; where do you think you're going?"

"Away from here! Let me go!"

"Just go and talk to him," Sam kept a firm grip on thin air. "He's barely seen us since you and your friends got back; that was over three months ago."

"Imagine all the fun stuff he'll want to say after all that time." Randall shot back.

"You know, you are making a mountain out of a molehill about this. What could possibly go wrong? It's just Dad. He's got a lot to say to you!"

"Exactly."

Sam released him, letting Randall return to a normal, visible state. "Somebody's a little stressed out. What's been going on with you, lately? And what was that back there in the lab? You're acting like there's a ghost breathing down your neck."

Randall frowned slightly. The vision of Suzie was standing right behind Sam. She shrugged. "Hey, don't look at me! You said that I'm all in your head, remember?"

The crowded foyer wasn't too packed right now, with the afternoon nearing its end. The rainstorm still pounded hard on the domed roof. Echoes from the droplets bounced off the walls deafeningly. Some monsters even had to raise their voices in order to be heard whenever a thunderclap boomed. The stormy weather matched Randall's mood perfectly.

In the center of the foyer, at the reception desk, Celia Mae was seen multi-tasking as always. She was answering phone calls, typing on the computer, waving 'hi' to passing co-workers and drinking decaffeinated fly-flavored coffee all at the same time. Her snake-hair acted as extra sets of eyes and chirped in greeting when Wazowski ran by. Celia blew the cyclops a kiss as he dashed off towards the Laugh Floors. If anyone came through the factory front doors, she was always the first to greet them. Sometimes visitors would even hang around the foyer to chat. There was one such monster doing exactly that.

Celia Mae spoke with him as she worked. The man was a good conversationalist. She had never met the Boggs brothers' father before. He was a very intelligent sort and quite charming, so she was enjoying his company. She pointed out Samuel and Randall when they came into view, prompting the older monster to turn around.

The brothers approached the desk casually. "Hey Dad…" Randall began. Having not seen his father in a while, it was hard to know where to begin.

Zachariah Boggs was sixty years old, a little older then Bernard, but still very spry and looked quite young for his age. Like the brothers, he also had a lizard-like body and multiple limbs. But while Sam only had two arms, Randall had inherited four just like their father. Zachariah's scales were a dark eggplant color with a splash of dark blue near the tail. The many fronds running down his head and spine were very short. That helped to show off the large tattoo on his back: an abstract, artistic design done in black ink that stretched out to cover much of his back. While the brothers both had green eyes, their father's were light grey. There was a piercing intellect to them as the man turned to face his sons.

Randall glanced at Sam; the sleeve tattoo on Sam's left arm had similar designs to their father's ink. Secretly, he wondered if his brother had gotten the idea from him. He had yet to ask about it, though. Putting curiosities aside, he walked up to Zachariah. "So, uh, how did you get here?" That came out wrong. He had meant to ask 'how have you been?' or something else along those lines. _Boy, I must be nervous. Maybe I'm just still shaken up from Suzie tormenting me._

"Hello to you, too," Zachariah answered anyway. "I just walked in through the front doors after a long, _long_ bus ride full of atrocious passengers. Thank goodness the trip is over." He bid Celia Mae a farewell as his sons led him across the foyer floor. "The receptionist said I wasn't permitted in the factory workshops. Of course, I could have just headed in there anyways, but then Sam went off to find you. So I just waited out here and mingled." He observed a group of Laughers passing them, who carried towers of plates, cream pies, and sticks to spin them on. "Interesting characters around here, aren't there?"

Randall nodded, rolling his eyes at the clownish stunt. "Yeah, you've got that right. So, how are things at the observatory?"

"Is it true you're on the verge of discovering a new star?" said Sam eagerly.

Zach was accomplished and brilliant, having a good career at the Nosferatu Institute of Astronomy. It was a place outside of the city and a whole day's worth of travelling away. He smiled. "Working on that. Whatever it is, it's either a new star or a slow-moving comet. My colleagues are still in disagreement over the whole thing."

"Sounds like quite a find. Sorry, Dad, but I have one more counselling session before the day is over." Sam checked his watch. "Then we can catch up all we want. I'll meet up with you guys later?"

 _No, don't leave me here!_ Randall almost blurted out. He sent his brother a pleading gaze, but Sam ignored it. _Some brother he is, leaving me alone to talk to Dad._ The man was bound to lecture on about success or express disapproval over something. What fun that would be…

Zach wanted to look around the factory, but since he was only a visitor, the places he was allowed to go were limited. (With the camouflaging gene, those rules didn't technically apply, but Zach was not a rule-breaker.) So he followed Randall to the cafeteria where they could talk for a while. The room was getting dirty with food dropped on the floor by all the messy eaters, but at least it wasn't too crowded. There was only an hour or so left of the work day. Most monsters were out on the Floors, filling the factory with either piercing screams or echoing laughter.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this new concept…" Zachariah was saying.

"Huh?" Randall had been distracted by an aquatic, blue-scaled figure sitting at one table.

"The whole laugh-energy thing. A lot of factories are adding it on; seems a bit strange." Zach motioned for Randall to sit down.

"Glad we agree on something. But it's effective. It means more power, and good for all the non-scary monsters. One of my old friends is the top Laugher here."

"Really? You're making friends?" Zach said in a joking sort of way. He wasn't being mean; his youngest son had always been the academic sort, so there was never any time for socializing. He apologized when Randall didn't take the joke. "Sorry. I thought the rest of your little gang were the only ones. I haven't seen them since you all returned; Sam's told me a lot about them."

For a while, the father and son told each other how things had been the last few months. Nothing terribly important came up. Just basic, everyday things like how Rex was, what Randall did when out with the gang, how Sam managed to juggle two jobs, and other trivial things. But when conversation became more serious, the air became a bit tense.

Out of the corner of his eye, the blue shadow was becoming clearer. Suzie materialized at the next table. She was fidgeting impatiently, as if desperate to talk, but couldn't. Not with Randall's father sitting there.

The lizard ignored her.

Zach sipped the old coffee in his hand, changing the subject. "Now, what's this I hear about another engineering project?" His grey eyes were disbelieving and concerned. "And please don't tell me you're plotting behind everyone's back. The last time this happened, your brother and I found out the hard way."

There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Randall was a bit surprised that his father would be worried. This new idea was hardly as malicious as the scream extractor.

Zach went on. "You can't be involved in another scandal like before. Deception like that is completely—"

"I know! I know…" Randall held up his hands before a lecture could begin. "Give me a chance to explain, Dad. It's not what you think…"He pulled out the sketchbook of designs. Every one of the diagrams was in there, right down to the finalized one at the end. The book was so stuffed with extra papers that it was twice as thick when Randall had begun.

He handed it to his father.

Zachariah made no verbal response. His expression was uncertain, but he took it and began flipping through the papers. There was a good ten minutes of silence during that time. Randall's impatient nature was tested. It was all he could do not to blurt out and ask for an opinion, even from Suzie, who was pacing around, sitting down at empty seats to watch them. _What's wrong with her?_ She looked very scared. As if a final exam was coming up and she was unprepared. He almost asked why she was acting so odd, but kept silent on account of other ears listening.

Zachariah paused for several minutes more when he came to the end of the sketchbook. "Well…this isn't what I expected…it's different, that's for sure."

"Different? That's all you've got to say?" Randall crossed his arms. "So…what do you think?" There was another silence as Zach thought. He took the chance to try and earn some support. "Sam is letting me put together a prototype in the garage. My friends really like the idea of an upgraded door station, but Sam still isn't too sure."

"Well…You need to be careful about this, lest you end up in more trouble."

 _That's not exactly support, Dad. Better than nothing, though._ Randall thought. He nodded.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around…I talk to Sam on the phone all the time, but I haven't seen you in ages. Been busy at the observatory all this time," Zach said with some regret. "When he told me how anxious you've been lately, I thought it about time to start visiting more often. If you're really serious about all this," he gestured at the open sketchbook. "It'd be a shame if it all amounted to nothing."

"Banishment is illegal, now. Don't forget that." _Even though that may not stop monsters from tossing me back out there._

"I'm just warning you, that's all." Zach folded all four hands in an honest, serious way. "Can we backtrack a little bit? You see, two years ago, when I learned what had happened to you—getting tossed through a door, I mean—it reminded me of our big argument over college all those years ago. Only without the hope of patching things up later. You, your brother and I are all somewhat alike; we're all over-ambitious with big dreams, but over-confident sometimes. So please, Randall," Zach looked him right in the eye. "Be careful."

A stern warning for all the right reasons. Randall wasn't sure if that counted as support or not. He wasn't sure how to respond, so he listened as his father spoke up again.

"I trust this isn't being built in secret?"

"Very funny." Over at the other table, Suzie began drumming her fingers. The table she was at had become occupied with a rowdy bunch of Scarers who were noisily chowing down on snacks. Some food was even being thrown around. But not a crumb landed on the unseen Suzie. She rolled her eyes at them and got up to pace around some more.

Zach skimmed over the final design again. "I'll admit, these are pretty good. Have you shown them to your boss?"

"Not yet. But I will once the mini-prototype is done."

"Smart move. Can't present something like this without solid proof. I should know, working with space anomalies day in and day out…"

The presence of Suzie was really distracting, now. She waved her arms to get Randall's attention, not realizing he was ignoring her on purpose. If he slipped up again and said something to her, there would really be questions raised about his sanity.

Zachariah didn't notice the weird glances Randall was giving to thin air. He went on, trying to make pleasant conversation. "So, how are those friends of yours? Sam has told me so much about them, I feel as if I know them already. Tell me, how is Naomi faring in her new job? And I hear you're spending a lot of time with Becca these days."

"Yeah. With Suzie gone, it's been hard on—" The dead girl in question suddenly appeared right behind Zach, making Randall stumble with words. "—us all."

He fought not to look at the vision as she spoke in distress. "Randall! Can you hurry this up? Time's almost up; something terrible is about to happen!" She took a moment to look at Zachariah, noticing for the first time how alike they looked. "Huh. Looks like you took after your dad more than Sam did, right? I love the tattoo, though." She became serious once again. "Listen, my sister is acting really weird. You've got to get to Bernard's place. Now."

"Why?" Randall replied without thinking.

"What do you mean 'why?'" Zach sipped his coffee again. "I just think with Sam's psychology training, he could really be a big help to her…"

The vision slammed her hands on the table, although they made no sound. The sudden proximity made Randall jump in surprise.

"Are you alright?" Zach asked, confused.

"Uh—yeah. A mosquito bit me." He slapped himself on an arm for emphasis.

Suzie did not back off. "Randall! This is serious! Make any excuse to get out of here. Now! Your dad can wait."

The older monster was going on about Sam, praising his accomplishments and pointing out why a therapist was good for dealing with depression. But Randall wasn't paying attention, anymore. His eyes darted from his father, to Suzie in debate on what to do. _I'm not about to take orders from a hallucination. She's all in my head. Just playing on my guilty conscience…That's all._

The hallucination was truly desperate, though. She looked so real, standing there, imploring. "Please! It's about Becca!"

That got his attention. Had something happened? Or was Suzie just searching for an excuse to talk privately? Randall immediately stood up from the table.

"Where are you off to?" Zachariah scolded. "Getting up and leaving just like that is no way to behave after I've travelled all day to get here."

"Sorry, Dad, I—I just remembered something important. Look, it's, uh—almost four o'clock already! I'm late for the last safety sweep of the day. Can we talk back at home? Sam can drive you there; he called dibs on the car today."

"Well, alright. Don't be too late. I still have a lot of questions about all this." Zach nodded, still a bit confused. But he did not make any further argument as Randall left.

Good. Now that that was taken care of, Randall half-ran out of the cafeteria. He searched for the vision in the hallway. There was no sign of her amongst the other monsters walking to and fro out here. She most often appeared when he was alone, so he made a beeline for the nearest barren corridor.

In a carpeted hallway, he found her leaning against the wall and hugging herself with anxiety. He went right up to her. She was clearly upset about something. Now his own fears were slowly rising, for he had never seen her like this before. "OK, Suzie, what's going on? My Dad will think even less of me after that fiasco."

"Becca is acting really weird. I'm scared something bad is about to happen, so you've got to do something." She said fearfully. "Get to Bernard's, _now_! I'll meet you there."

"Why? What's going on?" But the girl vanished when he next blinked. It took several seconds for the words to click. His conscience spoke as he pulled on his fronds. _Becca's in trouble…oh boy. This is serious…you'd better get going. Find out what's going on._

The logical voice of reason replied. _Or, she may_ not _be in trouble. If Suzie really is all in my head, this could just be my mind playing tricks on me. Guilt can really make a monster go crazy._

 _What if she isn't in your head? Do you really want to take that chance? She could really be there, and you're just denying it._

Randall's inner voices battled back and forth for a while. His conscience won over. _No. I can't take the chance._

So he moved quickly. But not too quickly in order to avoid suspicion from coworkers. He pushed past monsters without making eye contact, going through the halls and reaching the foyer without being stopped. He did not slow down, not even when Celia Mae called out to ask where Zachariah had disappeared to. Randall pretended not to hear; the sound of rain and thunder pounding on the glass roof was enough for the excuse to work.

The vision of Suzie had sounded so desperate that he felt an urge to do what she asked, no matter how vague her warnings had been.

 _Why am I even listening to her?!_ Randall stepped out into the heavy rain without a second thought. He expected Suzie to be out here, too, but there were only other monsters hurrying towards the doors to escape the storm. Suzie wasn't anywhere in sight. _She's only in my head; she can't know about what's happening in places I'm not…Right?_

But a gut feeling told him otherwise.

…

Samuel had called dibs on the car today, so he caught the bus that went close to Bernard's neighborhood. It didn't matter if he had slipped out of work early; if the vision really was warning him about something, he wanted to hurry. The bus route ended some blocks away, and so he was forced to endure the rain for a while longer.

"Curse this storm! Whatever Suzie is dragging me out here to see, it had better be good." Randall walked swiftly along the sidewalk.

This neighborhood was very wealthy. Every house was enormous, with big gardens and properties, long driveways, and high perimeter gates. Bernard's family home fit in perfectly with its towering heights and big windows. Although the gang visited the Brennen's place so often they practically lived there, Randall still couldn't get used to it. He kept pushing on, fighting the heavy downpour. The red-painted mansion of a house was almost in view…

When he reached it, he went around back like he always did. Nobody answered at the backdoor. Of course; Bernard was babysitting Rex today, and the rest of the family wasn't home. But Randall knew Becca was here. He was about to call out, when he heard a voice.

"Randall!" Suzie called through the rain. She sounded loud and clear, just like a living monster. It defied all logic. Anyone else's voice would have been drowned out by the rain. "Hurry! There's not much time left!"

He turned to see her pacing on the lawn. She wrung her hands nervously and glanced up at the tall house as if afraid. Not a single scale was wet from the rain. The droplets didn't even hit her; they just seemed to fall and avoid her non-existent form. It was weird…But Randall shook the eerie feeling aside as he approached. A thunderclap boomed from the grey sky. That only added to the spooky presence.

"There you are. Before I start breaking windows, do you mind telling me why?" His fronds were heavy with water and plastered down his back. The summer storm was also chilly, and his energy was already spent just getting here. He demanded to know what was so urgent. "What's gotten you so riled up? And what did you mean when you said something was wrong with Becca?"

"That!" The vision gazed up at the house again and pointed to the highest part of the roof.

Confused, he followed Suzie's pointing hand to try and see whatever was so terrible…The Brennen household was like a mansion. It rose four stories tall, and every one of those floors was tall enough on its own. The roof rose high into the sky, bigger than the homes on either side of it. But something wasn't right…Randall squinted up at the house through the rain, shielding his eyes with two hands.

Finally, he saw the thing making Suzie so afraid. His own stare became wide-eyed with alarm.

Through the pounding water and thick curtains of rain, he saw the faint outline of Becca standing high up on the roof. She stood very still, only a step away from its edge.

Suzie appeared in front of him. "Don't just stand here! Do something!"

 **AND...cliffhanger.**

 **It still isn't clear if Suzie is only in Randall's head or not. Next up: we finally learn the answer.**


	13. After the Rescue

**And we're back, right where we left off. Plenty of drama happening in this chapter and I love how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Twelve: After the Rescue

The summer storm was all but quieted.

To Randall, the terrible moment seemed to last eons. In reality it was only a brief second of staring at the figure on the roof.

The rain fell in curtains, soaking her to make her forest-green scales shimmer. The gold speckles in them made her a bit more noticeable in the grey weather. Becca had always loved rain. Sometimes she would take long walks during a downpour. But she wasn't smiling now. Her face was devoid of emotion. From what Randall could see from squinting, she was standing stalk-still on the edge. She wasn't looking down, but slightly skyward in thought. As if debating the next move…

He did not hesitate another second. He began a mad dash up to the house. The vision of Suzie disappeared, leaving him free to focus. But the expression she wore was one of pure terror. He was glad to blink her away; seeing Suzie so distraught, scared, and antsy was almost too much to handle. Randall didn't pause to look back.

If Becca stepped off the roof…there was a solid concrete patio below to end it all. _Not her too, not her too…please don't do what I think you're going to do, Becca…_

The sliding patio door was locked, so he hurried to a kitchen window. All that breaking and entering for supply raids hadn't been for nothing, but there was no time for subtlety right now. He elbowed part of the glass so that it shattered. It allowed him to reach through the hole and unlock the window from the inside. Adrenaline coursed through him, and he didn't even feel the glass when it cut an arm.

He scrambled into the kitchen and jumped down from the counter. "Hurry, Randall, hurry," he said to himself. "If Becca heard that glass, who knows what she'll do?" If she heard anyone coming, it might prompt her to do something drastic before anyone could stop her.

Bernard's family had flown off to Bela Island for a yacht-shopping trip, of all things. So it was eerily quiet in this giant house. With four stories to cover, the staircases were many. Randall ran on all eights to the nearest one, his energy fueled by a heart pumping madly with fear.

Climbing up to the top floor, he prayed Becca wouldn't jump before he got to her.

Suzie was already gone…he couldn't let Becca die, too.

…

Up in the storm, Becca remained still and quiet as she gazed up at the grey sky. Why didn't she just jump and get it over with? It was only a few more inches. How hard could it be?

Much harder then she thought. For a while, she had just sat up on the roof thoughtfully; a little rain never hurt anyone. Was Bernard's house even tall enough? It must be; the concrete patio down below seemed very far away. That should be enough to end it all quickly. Maybe if she dove head-first?

Enough time had passed to make a decision. Now she was ready to jump. It was a good thing no one else was home. Bernard was sitting with Rex and wasn't due back for another hour, while Nicholas, Lucy and Penny were out on Bela Island for the week. The weather there was probably a lot better than this torrential downpour…but the atmosphere really suited Becca's inner turmoil.

A few things held her back, though. Like the thought of her friends finding her down there; she hoped she would die on the first try. The thought of sweet, fatherly Bernard discovering she had done such an act was hard to imagine. The man would cry in despair. Ever since Suzie and Randall had gotten lost on that supply raid, Naomi had been filling the sisterly role. But it just wasn't the same. And as for Randall…he had been trying so hard to make things better for everyone. She was grateful for his constant friendship and could see he was truly sincere in trying to change his old ways.

Becca almost didn't want to think about him at all. What good was coming home to the Monster World when Suzie never would?

"I should've done this months ago…" Becca said to herself. But the words were lost in the wind, which blew her finned feelers around carelessly. She was only a single step away from being with her family again. Just one step; that was all she had to do…so why wasn't she taking it?

…

 _How_ had Becca gotten onto the roof? Which window had she used? Randall thought fast upon reaching the fourth floor.

It had to have been through the attic. That was the highest room, and had a small window that overlooked the backyard. It was quite a view. He himself had seen how park-like the Brennen's property was from up there. The whole neighborhood could be seen; even the highrises of downtown Monstropolis rose up in the distance.

The attic wasn't like most. It was a fully furnished, carpeted room without a cobweb in sight. It was more like a sitting room with a lot of trunks and boxes for storage; definitely not your typical attic. Randall was focused and didn't stop as he ran on all eights to the window.

It was open. Rain blew inside with a chilled wind, dampening the carpet. He saw the outline of Becca, still standing near the edge of the roof. The thought of calling emergency services had crossed Randall's mind, but he had a feeling there wasn't enough time. If Becca took one more step, it would all be over.

What was the best way to handle this? Every one of his hands gripped the frame of the window as he looked out through the storm. Becca's back was to him…he could just go invisible, walk right up and pull her to safety.

The breath leaving him was panting and heavy; he took a deep inhale to steady it.

…

"Just one step…just one step…" Becca muttered into the wind. She hugged herself, trying to find reassurance that it would all be OK. She believed in Heaven, and knew Suzie and her parents were there right now, just waiting for her. Jumping off a roof would be worth it to see them again…so why wasn't she doing it?

Her feet were listening to her brain: 'Don't move or you'll fall.' But her heart wanted them to make that final move. She had to do it soon, before anyone came back to the house. Bernard or maybe someone else was liable to stop her. The suicide note was already written, sitting on the table in her room. It was long and detailed; they would understand. The thought of her friends' reactions was the only thing keeping her from jumping.

Maybe standing here a while longer would help; just a few more minutes of self-convincing. She sighed, still hugging herself for a little comfort, gazing up into the stormy sky.

…

If he went invisible, the rain would still hit him and outline his form. A tough choice had to be made—sneak up behind Becca and grab her, or call out to try had bring her back to her senses? The first option was more instinctive, but also risky…if he grabbed her, she might struggle and cause _both_ of them to fall.

Randall couldn't waste time debating. He climbed through the window…the heart thumping in his chest was becoming very painful. Maybe some of the adrenaline was wearing off now that he was up here. Becca was only ten steps away, her feelers blowing around everywhere. The wind was strong up here and very cold. His fronds began whipping around as well the moment he stepped out onto the roof.

 _Be very careful about this…_ his conscience spoke. _Choose your words carefully. Or she'll jump in a heartbeat._

Resisting the urge to sneak up was tough. Becca was a head shorter then him, and he was quite strong from the tree-climbing and gator-wrestling done on a regular basis. He could pull her back from the ledge, no problem. But the worry of her struggling was too great. He didn't want both of them to fall from way up here. So he took a breath and called out. "Becca?" He noticed her go stiff upon hearing. "What are you doing?"

"Go away. I'm busy." She half-turned, not quite looking at him and still gazing around through the rain, or at the concrete patio far below—anywhere but at the one attempt to stop her.

Randall remained near the window. The rain was slippery on the shingles. He fought to stay balanced. This sent alarm bells ringing in his mind, for if Becca slipped, she was certainly a goner. She was only one step away from the edge and he thought fast to try and keep her in one place. "Busy doing what? Planning your own death?"

"I take it you found the note."

 _Note? Oh boy; she must've been planning this for a while if she took the time to write a suicide note._ "Don't do it, Becca. It's not worth it." Holding up his hands, as if gently coaxing her to stop, he started to move in nearer.

She pointed aggressively. "Take one step closer and I'll jump!"

He stopped, but kept his hands outstretched. "You've been home alone all day; why haven't you done it already?" he challenged. "You don't really want to jump, do you? This is exactly what happened to Suzie: she fell. But that was an accident! You're doing this on purpose!"

"Yes, I am!" she shot back, her scaly hands balling into fists. One foot moved an inch closer to the edge. "I don't care what happens now! If this works, I'd be able to see her again!"

"By killing yourself? Think about it and come to your senses! You're committing suicide by jumping from a rooftop! Suzie wouldn't want you to do this," Randall saw her face soften; that was a start. She glanced back out at the rainstorm and he took the chance to move in closer without her noticing. "None of us want you to do this. Especially me…" he confessed, trying to get through to her.

Becca didn't budge. Her stubbornness was proving to be a problem. "It's just not _fair_ …I get to come home, while she never will. I don't even remember the last thing I said to her!"

"Well, I do. It was the day Suzie and I left for that supply raid; when we needed to find medicines, remember?" Perhaps a bribe would work. "Here," he took another step, reaching out. "We'll talk about it. Just—just take my hand and I'll help you back inside."

Although Becca's face softened a little more, she still didn't move.

"Please don't do it." Randall inched nearer. Now he was almost close enough to grab her should she try to jump. "Why would you want to die after all the good things that are happening? Bernard has been like a father to you, taking you in to live here, and now you're about to jump off the roof! And even when Suzie and I went missing, Naomi was always there to be a sister to you. If you do this, I doubt she'll handle it well."

Here, Becca chaffed. "She's far too over-dramatic. This'll be like something out of a soap opera to her."

"Exactly. Don't you see what you're doing?"

There were no words spoken for a minute or so. The rainstorm raged on, soaking the two monsters and threatening to send them both sliding into a nasty plummet. Randall kept his stance wide for better balance; this had to end soon and Becca made no sign of moving away from the edge.

"I'm sorry Suzie died…I wish I could change it, but I can't!" he confessed. "Yes, she was hurt real bad, but her death was a peaceful one. She just fell asleep and didn't wake up. C'mon…just take my hand and I'll pull you back. I can tell you what happened." Only one more stride and he'd be able to physically reach her...

She gazed up at him with sad eyes. Both arms hung limp. This was it; she had finally hit her lowest low and didn't care what would happen next. Now her other foot slid to the edge. "You honestly think I _want_ to hear about the day you found her dead?"

 _Ouch._ That hurt. A painful reminder of a failed responsibility. The guilt was so great…but maybe this was just the thing needed to help him come to terms with Suzie as well. "No, probably not…" he said. "But you _need_ to hear it. You forget—I was actually there when it happened. I'll tell you everything. It'll be hard to hear, but talking about it will do us both some good." The look on Becca's face became sadder then he had ever seen. Seeing her like this was so unsettling…"Please don't jump. Suzie would hate it if you died like this."

Out of the corner of his eye, the vision of Suzie was standing on the roof as well. The silhouette shone through the heavy rain just like any ghost; or was it a hallucination? She was clutching her chest in anguish, hyperventilating with fear, with her gaze flicking back and forth from him to her sister. Had she been watching this entire scene play out? Randall made eye contact for a brief moment, suddenly struck with an idea. He frowned seriously at Becca. "What if Suzie was here, right now, watching? What do you think she'd say?"

That really seemed to have an effect. "She…would tell me to not do anything stupid." Becca fought back a whimper as she looked down at the distant concrete patio. One hand went to her mouth to stifle a cry; suddenly a terrified awareness came over her. What was she _doing?!_ Standing on a rooftop during a rainstorm? Frozen on the spot, she reached for Randall with her other hand. It was shaking badly…

She finally turned away from the edge. Rain was running down the slope of the roof…her feet slid out from under her when she took a step—

"No!" Randall cried with adrenaline. He lunged to catch her before it was too late.

Becca was suddenly afraid; afraid of what had nearly transpired and of what atrocious act she had come close to doing. She did not struggle in fear, but allowed Randall to help find footing on the slippery roof. He wrapped every arm around her and used his own weight to steady them both. Her shoulders rose and fell with nervous breathing…but she hugged him in gratitude.

The incident may be over for her, but Randall wouldn't rest until they were both off this roof. He guided her carefully back to the attic window.

The vision of Suzie was still nearby. He watched her sigh with immense relief before fading out of sight.

…

The windowpane was slid shut after they climbed through. Both were soaked; Becca's scales were looking bright and hydrated due to her part-aquatic nature, but she looked shocked, appalled and sad all at the same time. She was still registering what had just happened.

Becca had never, ever cried in front of anyone except Bernard on one rare moment. She simply wasn't the sort of monster who allowed anyone to see her soft side. She did now. She slid down to the floor with her back to the wall and both eyes wide to stare at Randall. He stared right back, but more calmly before sitting down, too. Neither of them felt capable of standing all of a sudden.

"Damn it…what the hell is wrong with me?" Becca dried her eyes, cursing quietly.

"It'll be OK," Randall reassured. "You just hit rock-bottom, that's all."

"What? No, I haven't!"

"Becca, you were five inches away from jumping off the roof! I'd say that's pretty bad." He went on, speaking calmly to try and bring her back to her senses. "What if you had jumped and it didn't worked?"

"It would have if I'd landed on my head!"

"Just like Suzie?" He said after a brief hesitation. "She would not want you to do it. Right up until the last day, she was hell-bent on returning to the rest of the group. The accident was just that—an accident."

"I know…" Becca leaned her head back with eyes shut.

Randall never showed any kind of affection towards anyone; it wasn't natural for a monster who had grown up a loner. But now he put an arm around Becca in a light hug. It didn't take a genius to see that she desperately needed it right now. He half-expected her to shove him to the side, but she accepted it right away and scooted a bit closer.

She sighed. "…Tell me what happened on the morning she died. Every detail."

Randall was surprised. This didn't seem like the ideal time. "Are you sure? That's pretty hard stuff after the whole suicide thing."

"I'm a tough cookie. I can handle it." she insisted quietly. It was alarming to hear her speak in such a soft tone. "Just tell me; I need to hear it."

Discussing Suzie's last morning was a topic Randall had been avoiding for ages. Having the girl die when he'd tried everything possible to save her was the biggest regret and the worst time of his life. It was rough even _thinking_ about it—the nightmares still came now and then…but he nodded at Becca's request. Maybe it would bring her some closure.

Suzie had been asleep all night, only slipping away at dawn. But Randall told Becca every detail of that morning as she listened in rapt silence…

…

 _He carried Suzie all the way here from the docks. She remained unconscious for an entire day after that, only waking up for a brief spell. It had been twilight at the time, and they had talked for a bit, but her head trauma caused her to fall asleep once again. Randall had already returned from a supply raid, but hadn't found anything that would assist in fixing a broken skull. Things were becoming desperate, now._

 _The temporary hideout was high up on a hill overlooking the ocean. It was a little ways out of town and unlikely to be stumbled upon by people. The cliff-side cave was the perfect haven in this strange land. Iceland had very few trees, so finding the place was a true stroke of luck. There was a steep, rocky path leading down to it from the field up above. It was not a hiking trail; more likely the path to an animal's abandoned den, but Randall had carried Suzie all the way up here anyway. If any fierce beasts came, he would fight them off, no problem. The cave was pretty high, with the Icelandic sea far below. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks echoed all the way up here. More cliffs rose even higher further inland, where there was nothing but wilderness. Once Suzie's skull was treated, Randall planned on moving further from town. With the cluster of streets and buildings only just down the hillside, he didn't want to risk being discovered. They couldn't take that chance, not when they were in such dire states._

 _He had searched the town and even the local hospital for clues on how to treat a broken skull…All without success. Most methods involved surgery, and he was leery about going to such extremes. So he came back to the cave to ponder the next move. After pacing around the chilly space to burn off some stress, he slumped against a boulder to keep watch…he was so tired from all of this…with not a bit of rest for two days…not a single meal, either…without meaning to, Randall drifted off to sleep…_

 _He hadn't_ meant _to fall asleep. He woke up with a start after an hour, cursing himself for letting such weakness to overcome him._

 _It was vital he kept an eye on Suzie's symptoms. She could have another spell of aphasia, which would mean her head injury was truly severe. But she was still sleeping soundly. He looked out at the sky to judge the time of night; it was extremely early in the morning and still dark out._

" _Maybe there's time to go back for another raid…" he considered returning to the hospital. The town was such a small community that the earlier raid had been swift and easy. But also unsuccessful. "On second thought, scratch that," he spoke to himself. "I won't be back before morning and I told her I'd be here when she woke up…the first search didn't go so well, anyway. Ugh!...stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere! I bet locals have to fly out to a less remote area for serious injuries…"_

 _Suzie lay on her back with all the worn-out blankets covering her. She breathed in a steady, slow rhythm. The huge caved-in break on the back of her skull was as big as a fist. It had to be putting massive pressure on her brain. Her left arm was broken. She was bruised from the fall, and her royal blue, gold-speckled scales were looking dull and pale. Had she been human, she would be done for already. Many monsters were built to withstand more trauma then humans. She seemed safe enough, but Randall wasn't sure what to do next._

 _He leaned against the rock wall in debate. In all the time spent in the Human World, he had always been a master of solving problems. Sometimes in unconventional ways. But how was he supposed to fix_ this _?! He had a sinking feeling the girl wouldn't last much longer if he didn't act quickly._

" _Mateo…" Randall wondered if the Spaniard could help again. The man had offered, and this was an emergency._

 _The cargo handler from the ship had helped them slip away into the wilderness. Mateo had been the only human to have seen them, even offering to help if need be. The guy was no doctor, but maybe he could head into town to find one…someone who cloud also keep quiet about the existence of monsters. "That idea is completely crazy. Dragging a doctor way out here?" Randall was wary of the plan. He kneeled down to check Suzie's pulse. It was present, but still very slow. And she was being unnaturally still in her sleep. The turban of bandages on her head hid the damage, but it would not heal if nothing was done about it._

" _That settles it," Randall decided. "I'll find Mateo, and get some help. That's the plan. It'll be easy sneaking back onboard the ship if it's just me."_

 _He gathered up the crossbow, a knife, and a small pack of other hunting supplies. He would head back to the ship at dawn. For now, he had to find something to eat. It had been almost two days since his last meal; exhaustion and stress over Suzie were taking a toll on him. Before sneaking back to the town docks invisible, he needed a meal. The same went for Suzie; freshly caught food would do them some good._

 _Randall glanced through the cave entrance again; there was still no sign of light on the horizon. Plenty of time to hunt something down before dawn. "I'll be back in a flash," he said to the sleeping Suzie. Her breath continued to rise and fall. That was the only visible sign of life. "I'm just going to hunt down some breakfast. Don't know what sort of animals live on this island, so this should be interesting, Suzie. Don't go anywhere, OK?" Randall took one final, anxious gaze at her…at all the bandages, bruises, and the splint holding her arm together. He prayed she would be alright._

 _Just in case she woke up, he quickly scrawled a note on the rock wall to explain where he was. Then he scrambled up the steep, rocky path to the field above._

 _The grassy highlands spread out far and wide, moving with the land and housing herds of reindeer and other, smaller game, perfect for filling the bellies of two hungry monsters. Despite the name 'Iceland' there was not a shard of ice or snow in sight. It was a vast open land of cliffs, fields, and big skies. There was a definite nip in the air, though. Christmas was only a few weeks away. Randall was sure winter weather would accompany it. He zipped his jackets up tighter._ Like that'll help… _Winter never agreed with him. Being a cold-blooded monster and living outside in freezing air? It was never fun._ Boy, I can't wait until we're back in the swamps…

 _There was something about hunting and foraging that was enjoyable. The silence and concentration involved made him relax and think more clearly while exploring the terrain. A few signs of life were found, and he started tracking an Arctic fox. The grass was a mid-tone green, so he camouflaged himself to match while on the move. The whole 'stranded in Iceland' situation grew to be less worrisome as the hunt went on. The more he repeated the plan, the less complicated things seemed to become._

" _This place isn't so bad," he spoke to no one while loading the crossbow. A medium-sized fox was seen scampering off in the distance. "There should be plenty of food in these fields. I'll go find Mateo, he'll get a doctor out here, and Suzie will get patched up…but then what?"_

 _The cargo ship wouldn't stay docked for very long. Suzie would need a lot of time to heal. They could be stranded in this wilderness for several weeks. Maybe months!…But that problem would have to be solved later._

" _First things first…get some breakfast." Randall squinted for a long-range shot. There was a sharp knife being used instead of an arrow, but it would do the job just as effectively. It hit the fox square in the head, killing it in an instant. That should be a great meal after nothing but meager rations since stowing away. Randall scurried over through the long grass to collect the prize._

 _A chilled winter wind picked up as he stood with the fox in hand. Although the breeze was cold, it smelled wonderful: a mix of salty seas with wild grass and a pure, untainted freshness that couldn't be found in a city. Maybe being stranded here would even be nice: open wilderness, with plenty of food, and no people. Another cargo ship may not come to town for ages, and even then, they would need to find a ride that was bound for the mainland and not Australia, for example. "Though Australia would be better than the freezing north…" Randall almost chuckled. "But we'll figure it out."_

 _With the hunting escapade finished, he began the trek back to the cliff. The fox was looking very appetizing after all the effort it took to find the hideout, carrying Suzie all the way from the docks. He vowed to look after her until they were safely back with the rest of their group. Bernard, Becca and Naomi were so far away…but he had a feeling they were doing just fine. "They're survivors…" he thought with confidence. "So are we. We can sort out this mess in no time."_

 _A tiny sliver of sunlight was threaded across the ocean's edge by the time he returned. Suzie was still asleep; he could see her breath rising and falling, still. But it seemed—slower? He went to check her pulse again and it was also extremely slow._

 _This was very worrying. The fears and anxiousness all came flooding back in an instant._ Better hurry… _he got to work skinning the fox. The sooner he ate, the sooner his energy would grow and the sooner he could head back to town and find Mateo. He sat at the cave entrance, chewing on a raw fox leg to watch the sunrise. The sky had become a lovely haze of pink, gold and orange across the horizon. It seeped into the cave to bathe the rocks in fresh sunlight. It may be cold on this island, but further inland meant prime viewing spots for the Northern Lights. Suzie might want to set up a camp there. After all, they would need to stay put until she was well enough to travel._

 _There came a tiny sigh from further in the cave—good. Suzie must be stirring. He took a final bite of his meal and went to check on her._

 _Randall wasn't prepared for what he found._

 _That tiny sigh had been her last breath._

 _Instinct took over after that. Randall remembered standing like a statue, just staring at Suzie's form while his brain registered what was happening. He remembered rushing over to try and find a pulse, opening her eyes to see if there was life in them. He tried forcing her heart to start again using CPR. He forced air into her lungs with mouth-to-mouth, trying to get her breathing on her own._

" _No, no, no, Suzie…don't do this…Please, don't!" He kept repeating in whispers. But all the attempts made no difference. He kept it up for a long time, trying and trying for what felt like an hour, but it was no good._

 _Suzie had died at dawn._

 _Once he realized she was truly gone, he staggered backwards, still crouched on the cave floor. The shock of it all made all the color drain from his scales. He couldn't move; he couldn't speak; all he could do was breathe in and out with panic._

 _She was dead. It had happened so suddenly…guilt and panic spread through his entire being. If only he had gone for help sooner…_

…

Becca stayed quiet the entire time. Hearing about that morning in such detail…perhaps it had been wrong to force Randall to talk about it. He had been there, had tried to save her sister and had done his best in keeping her safe. Until the accident.

Suddenly, Becca felt incredibly worn out. After planning her own suicide and then listening to all of this, anyone would be. She was too disheartened to speak. She just leaned into Randall, fighting back silent tears. As horrible as Suzie's death was, she was glad her sister hadn't been all alone out there.

Randall did his best to be comforting, keeping an arm around her to make her feel better. Maybe the failed suicide attempt would be another step in returning to her old self. He missed the brash, sarcastic, confident Becca who made a game out of picking arguments. It would be nice to have her back.

The rainstorm kept pounding on the roof. But the two monsters ignored the noise and remained sitting against the wall in silence. Both were so lost in their own thoughts that neither heard the sound of thumping footsteps until Bernard came into view at the top of the staircase. Naomi's lavender head was close behind, also damp with rain. Of course; Bernard had been sitting with Rex all day and Naomi had been working at the café; Randall had forgotten how late in the day it was. He and Becca did not move from their spot on the floor and allowed the others to catch their breaths.

"What in the world…" the older monster panted from running. His bad leg didn't make it easier. "What…is this?" He waved a piece of notepaper in the air. It was written in Becca's handwriting.

Both she and Randall grimaced, reluctant to give an explanation.

"I found this in your room, Becca." Bernard knelt to speak to her in concern.

"Yeah! Let me tell you, it had to be the worst scare of my entire life!" Naomi squealed with dread, hyperventilating and wringing her clawed hands. "What the heck happened? What were you _thinking_?!"

"Sorry about that." Becca sighed.

"'Sorry about that?' That's all you have to say? ' _Sorry_?'"

"My God…you were really _serious_ about this, weren't you?" Bernard joined them on the floor when it became clear Becca didn't want to stand. "Randall, what—"

"I stopped her. Got here just in time." He began, still holding her. She had gone slightly limp like a ragdoll, too mentally exhausted to explain. So he told Bernard and Naomi about how he had rushed all the way here from the factory, finding her in time to save her. But of course he conveniently left out the part of the Suzie hallucination warning him. His friends were already freaked out enough and it took a while for the hysterical Naomi to calm down, in particular.

A growing concern played out in the back of his head as well: this vision of Suzie that kept popping up everywhere.

How could his own _imaginings_ warn him of his friends' plights? From Suzie appearing at the factory at such random times; it was all getting to be a bit frightening. _That's what she is, right? Just a hallucination?_ He was beginning to wonder what he was truly seeing. How could a mere imaginary monster warn him to such extremes?

…

The gang did not split apart for hours after that. They were almost afraid to leave Becca alone for too long. Afraid of a repeat of some kind. Especially Randall. When Becca insisted on going to work the following day (for much-needed distractions, as she put it) he grew even more nervous. He couldn't keep an eye on her all day. What if she tried to jump off the _factory_ rooftop next? The thought was terrifying.

But a few days passed, and nothing happened. The worst seemed to be over.

Somehow, word of the rescue spread.

Only a select few knew the truth. It was mostly a rumor spreading around; not everyone at Monsters, Inc. had heard about it. But the story that the new Scare Coach had nearly committed suicide and that Randall Boggs of all monsters had rescued her was definitely the hot topic of the week. Some versions were exaggerated, some monsters didn't really believe it, but it put Randall in a new light nonetheless. He had saved a life. Coworkers acted differently towards him, now. But such a disturbing, sensitive and personal incident didn't feel right to discuss with just anyone. Becca wanted the whole thing to be kept as quiet as possible. Besides, she had made it clear she would clobber him otherwise.

"Let everyone think what they want," she said as the two of them walked up to the factory doors. "It's none of their business. So don't go into details if anyone asks, OK?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Randall replied, holding the door for her. Already rumors were spreading wild. Even right now, a few stares followed them as they came inside. "What if someone asks _you_ , though? Anyone in those coaching classes is bound to wonder."

"My personal life does not interfere with work." Becca insisted with determination. "Here, I just help monsters perfect scaring techniques. If I feel like jumping off a building in my spare time, that's none of their business."

Randall lowered his voice so no one else would hear. "But I'm glad you didn't."

Though she tried to hide it, Becca gave a tiny smile of gratitude.

"Just don't try to do it again, OK? I'd hate to have to save you again." He warned her.

They each kept their word not to discuss the matter. Becca had started going up to Samuel's office for counselling sessions, finally. While Sam was not at liberty to repeat what was said, Randall knew the therapy was exactly what Becca needed. She should've started going there long ago.

Later that day, Mike Wazowski was in the hallway as Randall pushed a maintenance trolley towards the cafeteria. Another food fight had broken out over lunch, so the room was in need of a good clean-up. He didn't mind these demeaning chores so much these days. The thought that he was doing other, more important side projects made everything else seem not so bad. He heard Wazowski call out, but pretended not to hear. He had no wish to speak to the one-eyed cyclops. But he stopped when the other monster came hurrying over.

"Randall!" Wazowski said louder then was necessary. "I just heard about McKeen! Is it true?"

"Must you talk so loudly? This is a rough subject, you know." Randall warned with a glare.

"Right! Sorry. I heard she tried to commit _suicide_ last weekend! And that you stopped her! But she's over in the training room right now, yelling at some of the new guys, acting like nothing happened. Talk about a busy weekend. What happened?"

"How did you hear about that?" Randall asked, annoyed. "This is supposed to be kept quiet."

"Sulley told me. He heard it from Celia, who heard it from Fungus, who heard it from your brother, who heard it from Bernard and Naomi, who found you and Becca in the attic of his house, right after you pulled her off the roof. Or something like that. The details got a little jumbled up."

"Guess that answers that question…" Randall groaned and resumed walking down the hall.

"Hey, that was a good thing you did." Wazowski commented, still following.

"Thanks. But I'd rather not talk about it." Randall kept pushing the maintenance cart, wary of his already questionable reputation. Now Becca had one, too. "Do you know my father is visiting? _And_ staying in the same house as me? It's a miracle he hasn't figured out what's going on. I'd hate for him to catch wind of one of these rumors."

"Yeah, but these are the good kinds of rumors." Wazowski corrected. "Everyone is being super-nice to McKeen. Even cutting her some slack when she loses her temper; which is often, you know. The Scarers are trying extra-hard to impress her. Varelli even got me spooked when I went to go watch a coaching session. With everyone working hard, it seems to be helping her mood. 'Least from what I can tell."

"Really?"

"Yep. And as for you," Mike went on. "Some monsters are calling you a hero by saving her. Even Sulley and I. Quite the opposite from sending us plummeting to our deaths in the door vault, am I right?"

"Uh, thanks. I think…" That long ago memory was one Randall would rather forget. But it seemed his old reputation was being shed for a better one.

…

A few days later, Randall and Naomi were in the Boggs' kitchen, cooking up a rice and vegetable stew for dinner. Or at least trying to. Naomi had never been a great cook, not even during their banishment days. She had been asking Randall for cooking lessons lately and he was happy to oblige, since it was a hobby that he enjoyed. Zachariah and Sam were both out, and Rex was upstairs, so they were free to discuss recent events without interruptions.

"I still can't believe she actually went and did it!" Naomi just couldn't wrap her mind around the thought of Becca's escapade. "Right down to the suicide note, climbing out onto Bernard's roof…it just doesn't seem like the sort of thing she would do. I was happy to burn that note to try and pretend it never happened."

Randall nodded. "Yeah…Sam told me once that everyone deals with grief differently. Some get more depressed then others."

"Tell me about it! I mean—jumping off of Bernard's _roof_?! Geez…what would he have thought if she had actually _done_ it?" They took turns chopping up spiky vegetables. A pan of rice was on the stove, and Naomi was supposed to be watching it, but was far too intrigued by their conversation. "If Nick hadn't taken Lucy and Penny off for yacht-shopping, one of them may have been home to stop her."

Randall thought about that a different way. "At least Penny wasn't around. And we shouldn't say anything to Rex about it, either. Jumpers are not the sort of thing that kids should hear about." _But Rex will probably figure out what happened on his own, anyway…he's far too smart for his own good._ "Make sure to keep an eye on that rice. Look, it's starting to burn. Your problem is you don't know how to multitask."

"Right," Naomi pulled the pan off the burner. "Sorry; I was just trying to think of something that would make Becca a bit happier. It's not easy. The trips to the shooting range don't seem to be enough, do they?"

"We'll come up with something. I've been talking to her a lot, and she's been going to see Sam for counselling all this week. That's some improvement." But he had a feeling Becca's attitude would halt her progress. She was as stubborn as he was; maybe more. Randall then asked Naomi, "By the way, why the sudden interest in cooking?"

"The café is rubbing off on me. I've taken a few tries at helping in the café kitchen, and it's really fun! 'Course I burn most of the stuff I make, so I need to practice. That's where you come in."

"Gee, thanks." He chuckled at the thought of prissy, pampered Naomi in a kitchen, cooking for patrons.

Once all the vegetables and rice were combined in the stew, and all the hard work was done, she became thoughtful. "…How did you know?"

Randall gave a questioning gaze, not understanding what she meant.

"About what was happening that day?" she clarified. "Becca was home alone, and you were at the factory, being the maintenance monster. And you just _happened_ to leave early and go straight to Bernard's? Getting there at _exactly_ the right time? During a rainstorm?" Naomi's three eyes were wide in disbelief. "She didn't phone you in a last-minute second-thought distress call, did she?"

"Well, no, she didn't…" _Uh oh. Lie, lie, lie! Quickly, now!_ What was he to say? That a hallucination of _Suzie_ had alerted him? Such a claim would make things worse. The excuse he came up with didn't give a whole lot of explanation. "I just…had a feeling."

"So strong that you left work early and got there in the nick of time? Must've been a pretty strong feeling…maybe there's a guardian angel looking out for us."

"Yeah. Maybe." Randall flinched a little when Suzie suddenly materialized on the other side of the room. The girl waved with a smile. He nearly waved back but remembered to keep acting normal. They weren't alone in this kitchen. Naomi was tidying up the counter, completely unaware of the visitor.

Whatever Suzie was, it was good she had been hanging around that day. This was the first time he had seen her since, and he wanted to clarify a few things. It was high time things were set straight regarding his sanity. "Naomi, I'm going to check on Rex; he's being real quiet up there, and I don't trust it." He thought up an excuse to slip away for a minute. "You slice the berries like I showed you, and then we can start on the dessert, alright?"

"Got it." Naomi opened the fridge to gather more ingredients. "You know, this cooking thing is a whole lot easier when I have a somewhat decent teacher."

"Har har."

The vision of Suzie followed him down the hallway and into the living room. No noise came from the upstairs loft; Randall guessed his nephew was either taking a nap or playing quietly, but this was a chance to find out what this hallucination wanted. She still looked the same as when he last saw her alive: bruised, broken arm, different-sized pupils, and that terrible dent in her head. Did she appear this way because that was how he last remembered her? Was his psyche just messing with his brain?

"OK, Suzie, there are a couple of things that I want answers to," he confronted in a loud whisper, lest Naomi overhear and come down the hallway, too. The vision of the dead girl hopped onto the armchair. Her expression was quite pleased and almost cheerful; weird considering what had almost transpired last week. Randall went on. "You _knew_ what Becca was planning to do, didn't you?"

"Not entirely. I knew _something_ bad was going to happen; I just didn't know what. After knowing my sister all my life, you learn a few things." Suzie shrugged. "I really owe you one, Randy. I can't thank you enough. You saved her!"

"No, I _stopped_ her."

"Hey, when it comes to monsters jumping off buildings, it's the same thing. And I've been listening to what everyone is saying at that factory. Some of them even called you a hero! You really should learn how to accept gratitude. Aren't you happy that they're all seeing you differently, now?"

A lightbulb clicked in his head. "Well…I hadn't really thought of it that way…"

He talked to the vision for several minutes. To anyone else, it would appear that a lone monster was speaking to thin air, having a full-length conversation. But to Randall, Suzie was as real as ever. And it didn't look like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

Neither of them noticed the little orange monster peeking around the doorway…

Rex observed with amazement. Uncle Randy was talking to the armchair. So the ghost _must_ be sitting there…he squinted at it, trying to will something into view. After a few blinks, he thought he saw the faint outline of— _something_. It was indistinct and not fully-formed. This was just like that weird shadow from last week…Rex kept on watching, trying to blend into the wall.

"…but you came and actually _warned_ me, Suzie. How is that even possible if you're only in my imagination?" Randall tried seeing sense. "I had no idea what was going on at Bernard's house. So are you all in my head or not? Am I really losing it?"

The vision giggled. "I've been hanging around this long and you still doubt your senses?" She said it with such self-satisfaction, even crossing her arms to recline with a smile.

Randall, who had been pacing back and forth, went stiff in understanding. It hit him like a thunderclap. The truth…the truth was the only way to explain it all. About how this vision had known about what happened that day…he felt his scales turn a dull, sickly purple, a reaction from both dread and shock. "Then you're really here…"

Suzie nodded, still smiling.

So the hallucination was no hallucination…

The little orange monster squinted harder…there was something there, he was sure of it! The blurry outline slowly became clearer with every blink. When it finally became solid, Rex gasped in surprise. There was a girl sitting in the armchair! A real monster, appearing out of nowhere! "Whoa…" he said under his breath. Boy, did she ever look beat up; like she had tumbled down a cliff or something.

"I knew it!" Rex punched the air in triumph, jumping out from behind the doorway. His uncle and the ghost were both startled, and then he remembered to keep his voice quiet in the proclamation. There was still a promise to keep. Miss Naomi was only just down the hall in the kitchen; it wouldn't do for her to think Uncle Randy was crazy.

"How long have you been hiding?" Randall demanded.

Rex rushed up to the armchair to look at Suzie in excitement. "You're Suzie, right? The ghost that Uncle Randy's been seeing? You were here in the living room a couple days ago, right?!"

Suzie's reaction was totally calm. After all, Rex had nearly spotted her during Becca's suicide attempt. Her efforts to warn everyone had been futile, but he had come close to seeing her in this very same room. She waved at him with a small smile in greeting. "That's right. It's about time someone else talked to me around here. Right, Randy?"

But Randall's reaction was completely different: one of near-panic. If his nephew could see Suzie, too, it proved she wasn't a part of his imagination. This was maddening! "Great. Things just got a lot more complicated around here…" He pulled at his fronds and started pacing again, for this was getting to be more then he could handle. Now _Rex_ could see her, too?

 **Yay! Things get a bit more interesting, now that Rex can see her as well. :) This marks the official halfway point of this story and I hope you stick with me to the end! More surprises are on the way, including another life-or-death situation for another character. (Won't say who, though. Because surprises are fun!) Stay tuned for more!**


	14. One Day of Progress

**Woo hoo! Next part is here! Sorry for the wait, but life is very busy and there wasn't a ton of time to write. Hope this is worth the wait. We have Randall's father making another appearance, Ghost Suzie hanging around, and subtle hints of things to come in later chapters. There's plenty of drama, so enjoy! :)**

Chapter Thirteen: One Day of Progress

With summer in full swing, life was steadily returning to normal. Or as normal as could be with everyone's individual problems.

Scarcely three weeks had gone by since Becca's dramatic suicide attempt. Randall hoped the worst of her depression was over. He was spending more and more time with her these days, and noticed she was _trying_ to return to her old self with each one that passed. She had good days and bad ones, and was always seeking out a friend to talk to. Naomi sometimes acted the sisterly role, but was often too busy to do so. Naomi had taken Randall's cooking lessons to heart and was getting better with kitchen shifts at the café. Almost to a point where she was considering professional culinary classes. (Personally, Randall thought she could use all the help she could get.) As for Bernard, he kept a fatherly watch on Becca. The fact that she'd nearly jumped off the roof disturbed him greatly and he was glad nothing terrible had happened. But his family needed help running the fishing business, so he went down to the docks every day. With whole teams of monsters working on their fleet of boats, it was no wonder the Brennens were so well-off. But Bernard always found time to be with the rest of the gang. With Becca's moodiness, Naomi's stressful indecision, and Randall's ambitions, the older monster always had an ear open to listen to their troubles.

But Randall had one problem in particular that just _couldn't_ be brought up…

He was being haunted. Suzie kept appearing. It was always at random times—most often when he was alone—but she could show up _anywhere_ , now, and nearly every day. She would ask how things were going, just striking up a casual conversation, but she just wouldn't move on, or whatever it was that ghosts did. And now that he knew it was no hallucination, the sightings were becoming downright strange. Sometimes she would appear when the gang was having a meal together and Randall had to fight the urge to acknowledge her presence; he was getting so used to her presence that it was as if she had never left.

" _Why_ are you still here?" he asked late one evening as he lounged up in the backyard tree. The leaves were lush, green and thick with summer. The vision of Suzie sat on another branch, enjoying the view of it all against the sunset skyline.

She was confused and thought about it for several minutes. "Hmm…good question."

"Don't you know? Was your whole reason for being here to warn me about Becca? If I already stopped her from killing herself, why are you still hanging around?"

Suzie was completely stumped. "Not sure. My being here is for more than just that, I think…"

Randall sighed and settled into the branch for some sleep. The warm night air was nice. But the pleasant atmosphere wouldn't help find answers, though. And it really didn't help that Rex could see her as well. _That kid is gonna blow it any second!_ Randall constantly worried.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke? I have a million of them!" Suzie piped up from her branch. "'What did the green grape say to the purple grape?'"

"Who cares?" Randall covered his ears. Even when she wasn't really here, she was still going strong with her weird sense of humor.

"'Breathe, you idiot!'"

"How are you still coming up with these? Maybe you're here just to recite them all. For the sake of my own sanity, I hope that isn't the case. Good night, whatever you are…" And he turned over to go to sleep. A part of him still didn't want to believe Suzie was there. But her warning about Becca proved that she was no imagining. He hoped Rex would be able to keep quiet about this.

 _This whole thing is getting out of hand._ His conscience spoke. _You're going to have to tell someone about her. Maybe she_ is _a part of your imagination after all, and you're truly going crazy._

 _No, I'm not!_ His voice of reason argued back. He twisted his head around to look at the other branch-But Suzie was gone. _Besides, rex can see her, too. And who would even believe me if I told them?_

 _Maybe Bernard...or even Sam._

The idea was ludicrous...but it was something to consider.

…

Despite Randall's fears, Rex turned out to be a good secret-keeper. Knowing about the ghost, seeing her walking down a hallway or sitting in a room was neat. Only he and Uncle Randy knew about her; nobody else! He sure wasn't going to ruin a perfectly good, super-amazing secret like this! Uncle Randy talked to her more often; he said she showed up around the factory a lot. But Rex never missed a chance to learn more about Miss Becca's sister whenever he caught sight of her.

One morning she showed up in the upstairs loft. With everyone else downstairs, he wouldn't be overheard. The room had long ago been converted into his bedroom and so toys, books, and building blocks were scattered around in piles. Some monsters called the big room 'messy,' but most would call it 'well-lived-in.' The early-morning sun beamed through the window splendidly, but it did not glint off Suzie's scales, like it was doing with Rex's. Not even a shadow was cast on the floor.

There was something he was curious about and wanted to talk to Suzie about it. So he spoke with the ghost as he sat on the rug, playing with blocks. "Uncle Randy said you should figure out why you're here." The boy had been pondering the problem as well and was just as stumped as his uncle on how to solve it.

The vision was sitting on the floor, too, watching as he built a castle. "Yeah, I should…but how do I do that? I've never been dead before!"

"I dunno," Rex shrugged, still building. "Monsters stick around 'cause they still have stuff to figure out, right? Or if they died real fast and just aren't ready to go, yet."

"Well, the 'dying fast' part sounds right. Maybe I just haven't gotten over the circumstances of how it happened."

"Grandpa is leaving today to go back to the country; he lives way out near an observatory, you know. Where he studies stars and planets!" Rex beamed proudly. "Think Grandpa will see you before he leaves? He doesn't believe in ghosts and we gotta prove him wrong!"

"Nah. I've been hanging around you guys for ages, and not even Sam has noticed. Besides, I only want you and Randall to see me. Anyone else and it wouldn't be a secret anymore." Suzie giggled. "Besides, Zach is pretty busy talking to your uncle right now. It sounded like quite the argument, so I headed up here."

Rex nodded, topping a parapet with a tiny flag. "Hey, can you walk through walls?" He asked suddenly, never having seen her do so.

Suzie smiled in amusement. "You ask a lot of questions. No, I can't walk through walls. I just go wherever I want, as fast as I want. Like, instantly!"

"Neat! Here, can you help with this wall?" Rex held out some colorful blocks. The castle was coming along nicely, but he wanted it to be done before going off to daycare.

But when Suzie tried to take them, the blocks just fell out—or was it through?—her hands. She sighed. It was nice not being in pain anymore, but being dead did have some disadvantages. Like not being able to help build a castle.

…

Meanwhile, Randall and Zachariah Boggs were down in the garage, discussing today's plans. For the entire duration of Zach's visit, a quiet disagreement had settled between them regarding Randall's engineering project. The small model version of the upgraded door station was complete. The frame glistened in a sleek, more futuristic design, with amore aesthetic details at the top where the power light was mounted. The control panel was similar: buttons and switches had digital displays instead of the old-school versions back at the factory. The garage was a bit in disarray with tools and materials, but Randall was proud of what he had done. There was no way to properly test it, though. Right now it was just for display purposes, only a few feet tall and all set to be taken to the factory workshop today.

That was what Randall was arguing with his father about.

The two of them may have some similarities—Randall's purple scales came from Zach's eggplant-colored ones, they both had eight limbs, and bad eyesight. Both were ambitious, clever, and quick-thinking. That was about all they had in common, and Randall's short temper was making their argument quite difficult.

"Even after looking at those drawings of yours, I still fail to see how a simple thing like this will put other monsters' faith in you. After all that you did, there will be suspicion everywhere." Zach was saying, crossing all four arms, looking at the rough model. His tattooed back—an artistic, abstract design in black ink—was facing Randall as he surveyed the completed work. He turned around to voice his opinion. "I still think it's too soon to be doing this."

"Dad, we've been through this; this would be a pretty big deal, and _some_ monsters may hear me out. I've gone over all the mechanics," Randall defended. "I even made a faster lift so doors could be swapped out faster! It'll work. All I have to do is get the go-ahead to build a full-size prototype—"

"But that's what I'm concerned about!" Zach cut him off. "You nearly sent the now-CEO careening to his death in a door vault! How do you know he won't throw you in jail? It's a miracle nothing has happened to you already, thank goodness."

"My name's been cleared. And all of that happened a long time ago. It's in the past!"

"That past is not meant to be forgotten."

"Well—um…" Randall stumbled _. Geez. He's got a point_ …Sullivan could very well find a way to convict him instead of listening. Or maybe not. The overgrown blue bear may be a pain-in-the-tail, but he was rational. He would listen before making a decision; of that, Randall was sure.

"Getting involved with all these machines of yours…" Zach sat down on the workbench. "This project is a good idea, Randall. That I'll admit. But _please_ don't land yourself in trouble again! Don't you think it's too soon to be presenting this thing to your boss?"

Randall sighed and let his arms go slack. This conversation was going nowhere. The only monsters who were being supportive were the rest of the gang, and Fungus. No one else; not even Sam. Well, that meant working twice as hard to prove everyone wrong! "I'll be careful. This endeavor is nothing like the last one. It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I've got to show that I can be better than that."

The statement surprised Zach. But doubt lingered in his gaze. Until this project progressed some more, that doubt would not disappear completely. They were interrupted by Rex, who came hopping into the garage and straight into Zach's arms. "Grandpa! Do you really have to go? You can stay a bit longer, can't you? Uncle Randy likes sleeping in the tree."

"So I've noticed." Zach rolled his grey eyes. All through the visit, he'd been sleeping in Randall's room, while said monster continued spending the summer nights up in the backyard tree. Upon first learning about the habit, Zach had burst into laughter. He sat Rex on the workbench. "Sorry, Rex, but I've got to be back at the observatory soon. They need me there."

"'Cause you're so smart, right?"

"That's right." Zach was amused by the boy's enthusiasm. "Whatever I've found through that telescope could be a new comet. But it'll take months of tracking it until the team knows for sure." Zach told about recent events at the observatory, much to Randall's chagrin. Rex was utterly captivated by it all and wanted to hear more, but time was ticking away. Zach had to catch a bus out of town pretty soon. Setting Rex down, the older monster turned to Randall again. "So, you still serious about this?"

Randall, who had been loading the rough model into the car, replied. "Dead serious."

Zach sighed. "Stubborn as always. Well, I suppose the only thing left to do is wish you luck. Just don't end up in the Human World again. However this day goes, I hope it goes well."

 _OK, not exactly support, but better than nothing._ After all the weeks of disagreeing, he was relieved for their father-son relationship to get to this point, at least. "Thanks."

His father gave a dignified nod in return. He retreated into the house to start packing and seek out Sam to start saying goodbyes. This left Rex free to wander the makeshift workshop. There were all sorts of neat things to play with in here. So many that Randall had to scold and set a few ground rules. Not to mention physically drag the kid away from the welding torch.

"Hey, Uncle Randy," Rex said as his uncle locked up the tools. He then lowered his voice so as not to give away the secret of the ghost. "I was talking to Miss Suzie upstairs. She told me some funny jokes! And tried to help build a castle, too. We're trying to think of ways to help Miss Becca feel better. Wanna hear some of our ideas?"

But Randall had too much to do and wasn't in the mood. "Not now, Rex. I've got other things to think about right now."

"Oh. 'Kay…maybe later, then?" Rex was going to be at the factory daycare for hours and hours today…meaning there was tons of time to sneak away. A lightbulb went on in his head. If Uncle Randy was too busy right _now_ , there was plenty of time to sneak out and find him later! Perfect! The camouflaging gene that ran in the family sure came in handy. Rex smiled mischievously.

…

When Randall arrived at the factory with the miniature station in tow, he immediately tracked down Fungus so they could move the pieces to the workshop. Fungus marveled at all the work that was put into this one small version; he couldn't wait to see what the functional full-sized one would be like. All through setting it up—frame, lights, wires, control panel and all—Randall's mind was elsewhere. Some of the things his father had said over the course of his visit rang soundly. Was this project even _worth_ it? Would it even make a difference when it came to redeeming himself? A lot of monsters around here still didn't trust him; what if Sullivan was one of them and refused to even listen? To play it safe, he would probably just leave the model in here for now.

The argument with his father left him very disquieted. Normally, he would go straight to Bernard to confess a problem, but the gang wasn't going to get together until much later. So Randall sneaked away up to Sam's counselling office for a quick word.

The upper level of the factory was considerably quieter then the busy Floors downstairs. (Although extra-loud screams and laughs echoed up from time to time.) The carpeted halls were decorated with plants, photographs of the factory's history, and portraits of past CEOs. Randall blended into the walls to avoid being seen on the way to Sam's office. It was preferable not to bump into Sullivan any more times than necessary. It was baffling how the blue buffoon ended up with the position of head of the factory, but Randall didn't care anymore. He just wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

The door to Sam's office was locked, so Randall assumed there was a client inside for a therapy session. Some monsters developed phobias of going into humans kids' rooms, becoming stressed out from the important job of collecting power, so the factory always had a counsellor on hand to help in such matters. Randall heard muffled voices form the other side of the door. Hopefully they would wrap up the session soon. It was nearly lunchtime and he was supposed to meet Becca in the cafeteria. So he waited impatiently, blending into the blue-and-white wall to avoid attention.

It was a good ten minutes of pacing. The moment the door opened, Randall slipped past the worried-looking Scarer who was leaving. The guy was one of the tough-looking ones: eight feet tall, crusty lava-like skin, and a horn on his nose long enough to be a sword. Odd that even the pro Scarers got stressed-out from going into kids' rooms. Randall shrugged. The majority of the Monster World still believed humans to be toxic, anyway.

The counseling room was a good size, with a wall of books and a desk at one end, with comfortable armchairs and a sofa at the other. It was all painted in the traditional company colors, but had lots of decorative art hanging around. Sam even lucked out and got a window that overlooked the city skyline.

The invisible lizard slipped into his brother's office, hopping over the smoldering footprints left behind by the patient. Sam straightened up upon feeling something brush past. "Huh?...Whoa!" he jumped in surprise when Randall materialized right in front of him. "Don't do that!"

Randall didn't bother apologizing, and got straight to the point. "Well, it's official," he complained. "Dad hates me."

"What makes you think that?" Sam poured a bottle of cold water on the lava-footprints.

"Didn't you even notice? The _entire_ time Dad was here, he barely had a full conversation with me. I bet he's on that bus right now thinking of ways to demean me even more."

"Demean?" Sam asked, confused. He himself had a good relationship with their father. But hadn't been around enough to notice how his brother and father interacted. It must be bad if Randall went so far as to just barge in here without bothering to knock.

"You should've seen his reaction when I first told him I was working as a maintenance guy." Randall shook his head at the memory. "Maybe he's right…If this whole project doesn't turn out the way I hope it will—"

"Don't be so angry with Dad." His brother stopped shuffling papers and looked up. "He's always been like that, remember? Always hard to impress, just so you and I could strive to be better. When we were little, it wasn't too bad, but now it's downright frustrating. I'm just more used to it, that's all. But even _I_ get frustrated with him from time to time." Sam reassured, leaning on the desk while Randall collapsed into an armchair. "I agree Dad's being a bit unreasonable. You've been working so hard, I honestly expected him to be a bit more… _supportive_. This idea of yours is big, Randall. Really big. It was probably too much for him to handle."

"Yeah, maybe…glad you and I agree on something."

Sam chuckled. Even he hadn't been very optimistic of this engineering project, but after hearing of badgering from their father? That just didn't seem right. This project was important to Randall, who only seemed to be getting support from his small group of friends. Right then and there, Sam had a change of heart. "Wanna hear my advice? Don't listen to what Dad has to say. He's hardly ever around, and has no idea how much work you put into that one little prototype-model thing. So I say keep at it. Who knows? The meeting today could go very well."

Randall sat up straighter in sudden panic. "But what if—"

"Yes, you were a power-hungry maniac involved in a super-big plot to take over the whole industry—" Sam ignored the look of disdain from Randall. "—but you've got a second chance here. From what I can see, you're making the most of it and doing a good job of proving anyone can change."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So keep doing what you're doing and try not to worry about what Dad thinks. He'll come around eventually. Let's just give him some time." Sam said wisely.

Instantly, Randall felt better. The knot in his stomach finally unwound. All morning, it had been like physical anger driving him crazy! Now he breathed easier. While he and his brother didn't always get along, he was glad to have someone there to talk to. Randall sighed to try and relax. "Yeah…you're right. OK, I'll try to quit overthinking this. Just let Dad get back to his star-gazing…"

"And speaking of time," Sam continued. "Aren't you late for something? Becca won't wait for you forever."

 _Of course! Becca…_

…

Downstairs in the cafeteria, monsters had already packed the room. Specials included disgusting and weird sandwich combinations, so the place wafted with the scent of pickles, rotten fish, and onions. Some of the monsters in here were messy eaters. Food was being dropped on the floor, and Randall was sure he'd be the one to mop it up afterwards. Some of the cleaning jobs he had to do were a far cry from rewarding. As he maneuvered between tables, he had to duck several times to avoid flying food.

He found Becca sitting in the corner at one of the smaller tables that only seated two. Good. They wouldn't have to share with all the loud, obnoxious eaters who didn't know how to have intelligent conversation.

She was annoyed that he was late. " _Finally_ you're here! I was afraid one of the Laugh Floor weirdos would come over to throw corny jokes at me!"

"Sorry. Got held up with Sam." Randall explained, sitting down with his own lunch. (Homemade and far tastier then this cafeteria food, in his opinion.) "Our dad left town this morning, and Sam was just offering some advice on how to deal with him. He's been impossible these last few weeks! Ever being the hard-to-please one."

They chatted for a while, talking about the visit, as well as normal, everyday subjects like what the gang's next weekend would be like. Naomi had the fun idea of going back out to Lugosi Cove for a beach-side outing. She was always a fun-loving monster who knew how to lift spirits. Even Becca liked the idea and went on about how she could teach the gang some basic surfing moves. But Randall noticed her seemingly upbeat mood was rather forced.

Halfway through the meal, he asked with hesitation. "So…How've you been lately?" Becca was never one to talk about how she felt. Ever since he saved her on the rooftop, she'd been a tough nut to crack. But when they were alone, she would sometimes let her guard down.

"OK, I suppose…" Becca simplified. "The therapy talks with Sam are nice. I've never tried counselling before; not even when my mother died. It's like a big weight lifting off your chest..." She abruptly changed the subject. "Hey, I heard you're going up to the big boss later to tell him about the project. That's great; I've seen how the old stations act around here. The way they keep breaking down, you complain about them often enough." She teased. "Nervous?"

Randall took another bite of his sandwich to stall. Maybe he _was_ a bit nervous, but he sure as hell wasn't going to say that aloud. Becca knew him so well that she read his mind. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were."

Randall drummed his fingers on the table.

"The more nervous you are, the worse it will be." Becca advised. "So just go and get it over with…Would it help if I came along and stood outside the door or something? If Mr. Sullivan decides to throw you in jail on account of pure suspicion, I'll gladly beat him up for you."

The image made Randall laugh. "Thanks, but I can handle this. Sullivan and I don't have a good history, but we'll both be civilized monsters for the meeting. Anyway, don't you have a big group class with the simulator this afternoon?"

"Yeah…I don't really want to go. Those guys are like big jocks with little brain power. But they're good at scaring; sometimes they're even a riot to watch. You should see the competitions they have with the Laughers whenever we have to share the training room." She took a small bite of her pickle and rotten fish sandwich. Most of it was untouched, still.

Not touching her food made Randall wonder about her true state of well-being. Ever since the suicide attempt, Becca _seemed_ to be healing. Today was more of a sad day, though. All through their conversation, she had been extra chatty and bringing up small, menial subjects, as if trying to find distraction wherever possible. "I'll come by the training room later to tell you how it went." _Then I'll have an excuse to check up on her at the same time._

"I'd like that." Becca smiled.

For weeks, Randall had worried she would do something stupid, like scale the walls of the factory to jump from a greater height this time. She hadn't shown any more signs of going to such extremes, but it never hurt to be too vigilant. He finished his lunch quickly. He was supposed to go to the upper floors immediately after the lunch break. Best to get this meeting over with; facing his arch-rival after all this time…he wasn't looking forward to it. "Brace yourself, Randall." He whispered under his breath "Things could get ugly."

"Are you still talking to yourself?" Becca teased as she poked at her sandwich. "You gotta stop doing that, Genius. Monsters will think you're crazy. Maybe some already do. Ever think of that?"

Randall rolled his eyes with a smile, his mood suddenly lifted.

…

Speaking with Sam and Becca gave Randall a more positive outlook about the meeting with Sullivan. He returned to the upper floors, blueprints in hand, with far less anxiety. Fungus was coming along, since he would be helping out with the project and was well-informed of the technical plans. "This is quite exciting. And to think you came up with this whole idea on a whim!" Fungus said as they walked down the hall. "I hope Sulley will approve. For something this big, and for such a huge change it would bring to the company, he made need time to think it over—uh, Randall?"

"Huh?" Randall hadn't been paying attention to Fungus' blathering.

"Are you nervous? Have you even spoken to Sulley since you and your friends returned?"

"No. Unless you count when I was in disguise with the French accent." Randall shrugged. "No matter. I've already patched some things up with Wazowski. Hopefully this meeting will go just as smoothly." He made up his mind to deal with this rationally. _Maybe Bernard and the girls are right. Maybe I am just being paranoid over nothing. There's no way I could get banished again._

The double-doors at the end of the hall were big, wooden and fancy. Randall knocked with dread; he would rather not deal with what was on the other side. But it had to be done.

"It's open!" came Sullivan's voice.

So they headed inside without hesitation. Randall was slightly at ease, since Fungus was backing him up. Had he gone alone, this meeting would be all the more nerve-wracking. "It'll be fine," Fungus whispered. "Just tell the truth and we'll both leave this room with our heads still attached. Doubt that Sulley would do that, but you never know."

The head office was very large and luxurious. A big meeting table with a dozen chairs took up the center, and off to the sides were sofas, fake plants and a few decorations. The main desk was at the far end. It was huge, built for accommodating any monster who happened to be in charge of the factory. The window took up the entire wall behind it to let in plenty of sunlight. Sullivan was sitting there, wearing a tie and looking like some sort of out-of-place principal. He was in the middle of reading clipboards as the other two monsters approached. Although Randall was on edge, he still walked firmly with confidence, but Fungus was sweating so badly it was a wonder he didn't pass out.

"Hi there, Fungus! Randall." Sullivan looked up to regard them. The later greeting sounded a bit forced. There was no hiding the resentment in his voice, but he still acted professional. "C'mon in. I've heard quite a few things about this project of yours. There are only so many rumors that fly around the factory at a time. So let's get started; tell me all the details."

"T—to—to tell the truth, sir, it's all his idea," Fungus stammered nervously. "I'm just the assistant, here."

"Before we begin, actually, there's one thing I have to make perfectly clear," Sullivan became very serious all of a sudden. "Given your background when it comes to this sort of thing—and this goes for both of you, by the way—if this turns out to be a danger in any way, this project will _not_ move forward. The first one I had dismantled and sold for parts. So let this be a warning: if I decide against this, there will be no building in secret. Is that clear?" The warning was said as a test. Over the last few months, he had observed Randall's behavior. No trouble had arisen since the former Scarer's return. Maybe he had reformed, maybe not; Sulley just wasn't sure. The lizard was a good actor and this whole thing could be some elaborate scheme.

Much to his surprise, Sulley watched the lizard nod in agreement. Totally civilized; no snapping, no talking back, not even losing his temper. "Understood." Randall said. "All I'm asking for is a chance. If this turns out to be a 'great idea,' I want to do it properly this time around."

"Good. Glad we straightened that out. So tell me all about this new door station. How did this come up?"

"Well, it's like this," Randall began. "Over the past several months, I noticed how worn-out and outdated the currant ones are. From what I've heard around here, they break down regularly, especially over the last few years. So I figure, why not something not only new, but faster and more efficient at the same time…"

The meeting went well. Randall and Fungus took turns showing the blueprints, explaining how the machine would run, all while Sulley listened attentively. He asked questions, which were answered with truth. His suspicions were raised when he heard about a small model that was already built and sitting in the workshop. But he calmed down upon hearing that it was only a model and non-operative. All through the hour-long meeting the atmosphere grew less tense.

But Sulley was still hesitant. Although this project _sounded_ like a good plan, he wasn't sure whether or not to trust Randall. (The guy had tried to kill him in the factory door vault, for goodness' sake!) But no trouble had been caused by him; nor by the other formerly banished one, Rebecca McKeen. Sulley had heard she had tried to commit suicide not long ago and that none other than Randall had saved her. The story had been circulating for weeks. The fact alone that Randall had done a good deed was a sign that perhaps the lizard had changed.

As the meeting wrapped up, Sulley debated the pros and cons of giving Randall and Fungus the go-ahead for this project. Should the chance even be given? Was there too great a risk of repeating what happened in the past? He was ready to give an answer. "After reviewing all of this," he waved over the blueprints. "I think I'd like to come down to see this mini-prototype before you begin the actual thing. I want to get an idea of what this thing will look like."

"Does that mean you'll consider it?" Randall asked.

Sulley almost said no…But he had always been fair. Everyone deserved a second chance. "Yes; I'll consider it. So long as this project doesn't remain in the dark, that is." He turned to Fungus. "Jeff, you got into quite a heap of trouble last time. And you, Randall; nobody even knew where you had disappeared to."

 _Which was all your fault, by the way._ Randall fought to urge to shout in anger. _Why_ did his old rivals keep bringing that up? Now was the time to be looking at the future. He settled for an impatient glare, awaiting Sullivan's further instructions.

"I'll come to the workshop at the end of the day, after the whistle blows. Give me a better idea of what this thing is and we'll go from there. Sound fair enough?"

"Sounds great to me!" Fungus reached out for a handshake across the desk. "The mini-station doesn't function; after all, it's just a concept model. But once we start a prototype, it shouldn't take too long to have one up and running. Randall's been working hard on this for ages, and is really trying to turn things around…"

As Fungus babbled on, Sullivan held out a blue-furred hand to Randall for a handshake. A professional gesture to settle the agreement. But Randall hesitated out of spite; he couldn't help holding a grudge. This was a long-time hated rival, always besting him when it came to everything: college classes, Scaring, earning the old boss' favor, not to mention illegal banishment.

 _But holding a grudge won't help._ His conscience spoke. _That isn't what turning a new leaf is all about._

 _Damn it, conscience, why are you always right?_

' _Cause that's what a conscience is for. Telling you the difference between right and wrong._

So Randall shook hands with his former rival. A silent agreement to at least be civil towards one another.

With another meeting planned at the workshop later today, Randall and Fungus were free to leave. "Whew! Am I glad that's over!" Fungus said as they went back down the hallway. "I was so nervous that he would jump to conclusions, given what happened during the whole scream extractor thing."

"Same here. Considering the project is a start." Randall was relieved the hard part was over. All nervousness was replaced with hope and anticipation. If this new station idea went through, there would be no doubt in any monsters' mind that he was indeed trying to do something good here. He still wanted to redeem himself; make up for mistakes. This one ambition was a way to do that.

He had to tell Becca. He scurried ahead of Fungus to reach the stairs; they were far faster than waiting for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Fungus called, picking up a dropped blueprint. "We have to make sure that model is all set for the presentation! Why does it come apart into several pieces, anyway?"

Randall kept going, and called back, "I'll meet you there later. I want to tell Becca how it went." _And see how she's doing, too. She didn't even want to coach today, so who knows how it's going in that class?_ He half-expected to see monsters cowering in a corner out of fear. Becca's temper was so unpredictable these days.

…

He went to the training room to find two classes taking place. One was a group of new Laughers practicing juggling tricks, being coached by a comical yellow monster with a long nose. On the other side of the room at the simulator was a group of Scarers listening to Becca lecture about how vital it was to have good timing when it came to scaring kids. Randall entered the room invisible, not wanting to draw attention. The scene was quite interesting to watch. Becca was a full head shorter then him, and here she was, dictating to the most intimidating monsters in the factory, three times her size.

"…and remember, first impressions are everything. The first inhale must be deep, and the exhale forceful with the roar, hiss, snarl, or whatever you do. But _please_ don't forget the importance of good timing! That was half of the lesson, and I certainly don't like repeating myself. So, who remembers why one shouldn't scare too early or too late?..." Becca marched down the lineup, correcting postures that had gotten sloppy for Scarers who were losing their touch.

Randall wasn't sure how long the class would go on, so he decided to wait around for a while. Or until the maintenance manager tracked him down to clean up the cafeteria. Whichever came first. "Or, I could just sit around being invisible for as long as I like," Randall whispered to himself. He sat in a swiveling chair near the simulator control booth. Realizing everyone in the room was too occupied to pay him much heed, he morphed back to a normal state.

One of the other chairs was unexplainably spinning around of its own accord.

Randall sighed. _Not again…_

"Boo!" Rex appeared, using his tail to propel himself in circles. "Hi, Uncle Randy!"

"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to scare me. What mayhem are you up to, now? You're not supposed to be in here."

"Why not? I promise I won't break anything. 'Cept maybe this chair! This is fun!" Rex spun around faster, liking how the room looked in its dizzied state. "What are you doing here? How'd the talk with the big boss go? Did he like your idea?"

"Have you been following me around? Boy, I can't wait to hear how the daycare workers freak out this time," Randall was aware of how hysterical they got whenever Rex sneaked out. "But yes, it went well. I'm just waiting to tell Becca all about it."

"'Kay…Is she still sad?" the boy lowered his voice for dramatic emphasis. "Don't tell Dad I know, but I heard she almost jumped off Penny's Grandpa's roof! Monsters shouldn't be doing that."

There was a pause as Randall's eyes widened in surprise. _How_ did the kid know about that? Probably by eavesdropping, as usual. Randall resolved to keep better tabs on his nephew's whereabouts from now on, lest the boy hear anything else that kids shouldn't be listening to.

Rex went on. "If Becca is still really sad about her sister, she shouldn't want to die, too! She's gotta find ways to be happy again."

"He has a point, Randy." Suzie appeared in yet another swiveling chair. She sat in it backwards with her scaly arms folded over the back of it in a relaxed manner. "But it's just not that easy, Rex. My sister is _really_ stubborn, but she's making progress. It's sweet that you want to help, though."

"Ugh…good mood is fading…" Randall rubbed his temples. "You two better cut it out! _Before_ someone sees you talking to thin air, Rex!"

But they didn't. They went right on chatting; should anyone else notice, Rex planned to say he was talking to an imaginary friend. So Randall just sat there, blending into the chair and pretended he was alone. The whole being haunted by Suzie was really starting to bother him. _Why_ was she still here? Was Becca destined to make another suicide attempt? And he couldn't explain why only he and Rex could see and hear her. She was dead. And _he_ was the one who had been there, not Rex. The best theory Suzie had was that she simply did not _want_ any other monsters to see her. Just him and now his nephew, since she had taken a liking to the boy. So until further notice, that was to way things were going to be.

 _If this keeps up, I'm just going to ignore her completely._ Randall vowed. His nephew wasn't as careful about ignoring Suzie when she appeared in crowded places.

For a while, the ghost and the little orange lizard talked about nothing very important. Things like friends, food, and fun activities like building castles out of blocks. At one point, Suzie tried to make her own chair spin around, but nothing happened. Randall was glad of this. If the rest of the room saw a chair spinning without explanation, the situation would be all the more strange.

When the coaching session wrapped up and the workers spread out to practice, Becca came over to visit. "I don't have much time; got another few monsters joining us in a few minutes. So, how did it go? Did Sullivan threaten to throw you into Siberia?"

"That's not funny." Randall said, not in the mood for sarcasm. "It went fine. Got another one later to see the mini-prototype I made and if that goes well, who knows where the project goes from there? My Dad is still not onboard with it, but I had an interesting talk with Sam about that…" Randall excitedly told Becca about all that had happened today. Things were only getting better as it went on. He noticed her odd behavior, though. All through their talk, she congratulated and commented at the right places, but still seemed a little down. It was like she was distracted by thoughts, or maybe she was just tired?

Rex was being quiet so as to better hear, while the vision of Suzie switched seats so that she was right next to Becca…Seeing the sisters together like this was hard to ignore. Randall fought the urge to look at Suzie as Becca confessed a few things.

"Glad to hear _your_ day is going so great," she said. She pointed at the groups of Scarers at the simulator. They were practicing new sneaking techniques to couple with their perfectly timed roars. This proved difficult for some of the bigger monsters; being sneaky wasn't their specialty. "I think these guys are acting like idiots on purpose just to vex me! Gives me a good excuse to yell at them. But I just _know_ they figured out about—" she paused suddenly, eying Rex.

Both Rex—and Suzie—were listening raptly. But Becca only saw one of them. She politely asked Rex to move away. "Hey, could you toddle off for a bit, Rex? You really shouldn't be in the simulator room, anyway."

So Rex, pouting, wandered over to a stack of nearby storage boxes; perfect for climbing. The vision of Suzie got up to follow. The dead girl desperately looked at her sister, wanting so badly to be alive again…she too, stepped away to keep an eye on the boy. Someone had to in an off-limits place like this.

"There are some things kids are not meant to hear," Becca went on talking to Randall quietly, but crossly. " _Everyone_ around here knows what happened, Randall. It's a nightmare! They're all acting afraid or pitying me and won't leave me alone. This place is like high school; secrets get out no matter how hard you try keeping them…Maybe I should have just jumped. Would have been better then dealing with all this—"

"No!" Randall hissed sternly. Without thinking, he grabbed her shoulders to look her square in the eye. His lower hands gently held her own. This was the only way to make her listen. "You _cannot_ do that. _Nobody_ wants anything bad to happen to you, especially Suzie. Trust me on this." Becca gave a confused look, but let him go on. "Things will get better. It's only been a couple of months."

"I _know_! The gang has been saying that for ages…keeping busy is helping." She glanced around the room at all the workers. "Being here and having something to do helps to forget. At least for a while."

Randall felt her tense shoulders relax and he let go to hold her hands only. If Becca relapsed and did anything drastic, he would never forgive himself. "Everything will go back to normal; you'll see. Promise you'll hang in there?"

He expected a familiar, tough response. That was her way. But she only nodded, not really looking at him. "…I'm thinking of having Suzie's remains moved…Don't tell Bernard or Naomi." She announced without emotion. "She's out in the middle of Iceland! That's not even in this dimension…To have her buried with my parents will bring more closure…What do you think?"

The image was tragic and gruesome, but Randall decided to let Becca take the reins on this one. That sounded like too big of a call to make. "I'll let you make that decision."

She made no response. For a second, she leaned in for a comforting hug…Then remembered where they were. "Good; nobody saw that." She pulled herself together, straightening up and making sure she didn't look too watery-eyed. "I may be depressed, but I still have a reputation to uphold around here. No more holding my hands, got it?"

"Whatever you say."

"This is serious! I can't let anyone think I've gone soft." Becca insisted. She turned to Rex, who had ventured a bit closer to try and eavesdrop. "And _you_ aren't allowed in here, you little imp. Want me to go tell Sam about this?"

Rex responded by going invisible with a snicker.

"Humph. Very funny. Randall, it's no wonder where he gets it from. Can't you—" But Randall, too, had vanished. She frowned. "Cut it out! Both of you!"

Both of them reappeared with some degree of caution. Randall tried to lighten the mood. "You know, we really outta plan another outing with Bernard and Naomi. Then we'd all feel much better."

Becca sighed. "Doubt it."

"You sure? I was thinking of some campgrounds out in the countryside. The sight of Naomi out in the woods is always good for a laugh—"

"Randall, there are more important things to do around here."

"Like your next coaching class?" he pointed at the training room's double doors. Several more Scarers were filing in to join the next session. "You really shouldn't be goofing off like this, making them wait."

"Ugh. You're impossible." But Becca's mouth turned upwards in a subtle smile. The argument had let out some steam and she returned to work in a slightly better mood.

Randall chuckled. For some reason, arguing always made Becca happy. But the effects wouldn't last long. He looked around for the vision of Suzie, but she was nowhere in sight. "Whew! Let's hope she doesn't turn up the rest of the day. C'mon, Rex," he guided his nephew towards the door. "Let's get you back to the daycare. They really outta put a tracking device on you."

"Nah. I'm too smart for that!" Rex looked over one shoulder to watch Becca walking off. He ducked under Randall's arms to hop into the swiveling chair again, still a bit perplexed by Becca's ways. "Wow. I can't tell if that went good or bad. Miss Suzie went away while you guys were talking. She told me a joke about what a green grape said to a purple grape. Then I just blinked and she was gone!" He claimed with amazement. "We came up with an idea, though. Uncle Randy, you're Becca's best friend. Why don't you do something nice for her?"

Randall was surprised. Being nice for the sake of it wasn't really his thing. "Like what?"

"I dunno…take her out to do something fun! That always cheers me up. Like going to the park or the beach, or maybe doing a favor. Dad said it's good to do something nice for no reason."

Randall frowned in thought. It had certainly been a while since he had done anything nice for his friends. Apart from cooking gourmet breakfasts, anyway. Becca would most certainly benefit from a weekend outing; after what happened three weeks ago, she certainly needed it for her mental well-being. He had an idea for a camping exertion for the four of them, and began thinking of a few other ideas for Becca alone, like swimming or something else water-related.

"Besides," Rex continued, still spinning. "Dad also said that being nicer is something you hafta work on, Uncle Randy. Whatever that means."

"I guess…" Randall shrugged. A part of him didn't want to bother with such a trivial notion.

A nagging inner voice said otherwise. _Another step towards redeeming yourself, if you think about it._

 _Shut up, conscience! I've had just about enough of you today!_

 **Up next: Just like old times in the Human World, with more friends making amends and Ghost Suzie causing a bit of a stir. This is gonna be fun!**


	15. Old Times and New Ones

**Hi there! So sorry for the month-long delay, but as many people probably know, life is busy! Plus, I'm a slow writer with not a lot of time on my hands. lol. But I always finish any project I start and this tale is no exception! :)**

 **In this part, things start off serious with the gang sticking together to make plans for a funeral. Then it gets happier with a mini-vacation to a campsite, where Ghost Suzie is having a blast driving Randall crazy. Also, there are little hints here and there about future chapters. Hope you like it!**

Chapter Fourteen: Old Times and New Ones

Randall had always been an impatient sort; that he would admit. He probably always would be. But if there was one thing that he was not, it was a procrastinator. Now that he had been given a (reluctant) go-ahead to begin a prototype, he wasted no time in getting started.

The 'secret lab' was a fully-functional workshop that not many in the factory knew about. The camouflaged door at the entrance still looked like a wall of tools from the outside. Randall was glad about that; with his intentions still being questioned by some monsters, there was a possibility of someone coming in here to sabotage the work. Only a select few knew about the hidden room, which included Sam, Rex, and the rest of the gang. Sullivan and Wazowski know about it, too, but Randall hoped word of the project's whereabouts would stay secret for now.

"Aren't you being a bit paranoid, sir?" Fungus asked as he tested the new welding tools. He and Randall were in the workshop, discussing the matter. "Replacing that hidden door shouldn't take that long—"

"Since when does being careful classify as being paranoid?" Randall was busy lining up sheet metal along the wall. "That camouflaged door stays where it is. I can't risk letting any monster wandering in here whenever they please. A lot of guys around here are still questioning my motives with this project." He worried, thinking back on recent events. _That stunt Becca pulled should've proved I'm not so bad anymore. I_ did _save her, right?_

 _Don't turn into a glory-hog. That's something the old you would do. Let everyone think what they want and stay focused on stuff that actually matters._ His conscience told otherwise.

Randall took the advice and kept working. There was a lot to organize in the workshop, now that all the raw materials had arrived. The miniature door station model was resting on a table. It was the 3-D diagram for what was to come. With all the plans laid out, Randall felt more than ready to tackle on the project. He was confident all would go smoothly.

"Good thing Sulley liked this little version," Fungus commented, setting the welding tools down. "These plans for the prototype look complicated, though…" He skimmed over the blueprints. "How long do you think it'll take to have it up and running?"

"A few weeks; maybe a bit longer. The wiring will be tricky, but I should be able to interface it with the systems. And I'll need your help with welding and testing it as the work goes on." Randall demanded. He read over a clipboard listing all the materials from wires to blowtorches. "And one more thing, Fungus. Try not to spread word about this, got it? You're kind of a blabbermouth who's bound to give me even more enemies. It's bad enough Sullivan is having Wazowski watch me like a hawk."

Another voice called out. "You're darn right! Can't take any chances now, can we? Lest the whole factory burn to the ground…" By sheer coincidence, Mike Wazowski strolled into the room to observe the tidy and organized shipment of materials. It was all neatly lined up along every wall, or stored in boxes and crates on the floor. The workspace in the center of the room was bare for now, but soon it would house the beginnings of this very risky endeavor. Mike noticed the small-scale model on the table and went over to look at it. "So this is what you guys have been planning…seems a bit small. What's gonna fit through here? Gremlins?"

"Hilarious." Randall said crossly with sarcasm. "That's only the model, you clown. Just wait 'till I'm finished…"

"Geez. Someone can't take a joke, am I right, Fungus?" Wazowksi paused for applause, but didn't get any. He turned back to Randall. "So, the maintenance manager wants to know how much time you'll be spending in here. Sulley's willing to allow two hours each day—"

"Only two? I won't get anywhere with that time frame. Make it three and that's final."

"OK, OK! Three it is. I'm sure he's willing to compromise."

"Make sure it happens, Wazowski. I won't be able to officially start this until next week, anyway. A couple of important things have come up."

"Huh? Why?" Mike asked, confused by the delay. "You nervous someone'll banish you again? I thought you were eager to get started." He scanned the room of materials again. There was a lot of sheet metal here, bound to take a while to mold into shape. "Whatever's happening can't be as important as revolutionizing the industry."

Randall explained bluntly. "Bernard has hired a forensics team to move Suzie's remains." The statement was said so casually that Wazowski and Fungus flinched in surprise. "Or…what's left of them…The grave I gave her isn't much to look at."

"Oh…" Wazowski didn't know how to respond.

"Becca wants her cremated before being buried with their parents." Randall kept reading over the clipboard, not wanting to talk about it. The guilt of not bringing Suzie back to her sister in the first place still stung hard. Iceland was so barren with so few trees that he hadn't been able to start a fire. Especially in the middle of winter. Now things were finally going right, exactly like Becca wanted. She had made the decision on her own to bring Suzie home; he had been the first one she'd told, and after telling the others, Bernard hadn't wasted a moment in hiring a forensics team to head out into the Human World. With a stoic heart, Randall went on explaining. "So, the main work will just have to wait a bit longer. I'm meeting them at a funeral home later; Becca has to arrange a few things there and wants us nearby. Then we're all going out to the country for the week while Suzie's being—well, you know…Getting away from civilization will be just like old times. We could use a break from all this."

Wazowksi tried to sound optimistic. "Sounds like fun. If not for the, uh, side-mission." He reconsidered his words after Randall gave a stern glare. He said more sympathetically this time, "Sorry. Hope it all goes well."

"Yeah. I hope so, too." Randall nodded. Lately, Becca had been more chipper than usual. But not in a forced way like before. He sincerely hoped she was viewing this as more of an event of closure, rather than a step backwards.

…

The four friends met at the Dragul Funeral Home later that afternoon. It was a large place and very fancy, for Bernard had insisted on only the very best. The building was modern, clean and shiny with new wood paneling, exquisite carpets, and lovely floral arrangements in every corner. Randall felt like they were entering someone's mansion rather than a funeral home. The place was more full of life then he expected; the vibe it gave off was positive and cheery instead of gloomy and sad. They all liked it at first glance. It was far better than being a grey, depressing place.

Inside, it was very quiet; they seemed to be the only visitors right now. Becca gave off little emotion while they waited for the mortician to come out. The forensics team had recovered Suzie's remains only this morning, causing quite a stir at the factory. Becca was handling this whole thing rather well, in everyone's opinion. Or was it all just another act?...Being in this place was sure to cause mixed emotions from her, so no one said anything. So they explored the main hall anxiously, pacing, viewed portraits on the walls, admiring the fancy room in its entirety. Bernard and Becca eventually sat down on a sofa, bored from waiting. He said nothing to her, but his fatherly presence was still a comfort. Randall was on his feet looking at the architecture of the ceiling and staying silent. But Naomi was extremely restless. Coming here made her fully realize what they were here to do.

"This is so—so—" she paced, struggling to find the right description. "Depressing! I've never been in a funeral home in my life! Just how many monsters have come through these doors? I can't imagine how sad—"

"Naomi!" Bernard scolded gently. "Now is not the time to complain. Settle down."

"I'm sorry." The lavender monster stopped pacing in anguish and joined them on the sofa, sitting on Bernard's other side. "I'm soooo sorry, Becca. This place is nice; it's just that—this whole thing with Suzie…"

"I know…I know…" Bernard put an arm around her. He said to Becca with concern, "How are you holding up?"

"I'll live." She pouted. The others all gave her raised-brow looks. She then answered more honestly. "Better than I thought. Suzie should be here; _Home_ , I mean. With my parents. They're in the Phanes Cemetery, just outside of town…We'll even be driving by on our way out to the campgrounds, actually. Once this whole uh— _process_ is done, do you think we could go there? Say some final farewells? We never did have a real goodbye for her."

"Of course!" Naomi agreed.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Bernard nodded. He moved to give Becca a comforting hug, but she maneuvered out of the way, not really wanting one.

Instead, she stood up and joined Randall, who was leaning against the wall in thought. She said to everybody, "I just hope they don't ask me to identify her…that would be a nightmare…" She shuddered at the idea. She looked at Randall, biting her scaly lip, reluctant to ask if he could handle doing such a thing. But he got the message anyway and nodded. Becca exhaled with relief. To everyone's surprise, she smiled. "I want to remember Suzie as she was. But for the life of me, I can't remember the last thing I _said_ to her…"

Randall remembered. He remembered the exact moment when the sisters spoke to each other for the last time. It was just as he and Suzie were leaving the camp for a supply raid, in the outskirts of New Orleans. He almost told Becca right then and there, but kept his mouth shut. Such an important memory seemed better to talk about when he and Becca were alone. It was far too personal to discuss in a group, even if it was only Bernard and Naomi here. _I'll remind her some other time._ He decided.

"Miss McKeen?" One of the funeral workers came out; the same one who had greeted them at the door. She was a six-armed, skinny red monster with the biggest glasses ever that only emphasized her big eyes. She approached Becca with compassion. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, Miss McKeen. Please be assured that your sister is in good hands; she will be treated with the utmost respect during her time here."

"Thanks. So, how long does this take?" Becca asked. She introduced the others. "These are my friends; extended family, really. We've made plans to leave town for some rest and relaxation, and we'd all like to know how long the process takes. Since we'll be gone for a week, do you think Suzie'll be ready to join my parents by then?"

"Possibly. It will take at least ten days. Your sister will be ready sooner than you think." The six-armed worker gave a brief summary of all the formalities that had to be followed. "But I regret to inform you all that Suzanne's remains must be identified before we can begin the cremation process."

Becca instantly backed away. "Oh. Uh…Randall?" She over her shoulder. He took the hint and stepped forward without hesitation as Becca explained to the worker, "He was with her when she died, and I trust him completely. He'll give you a positive identification."

As much as he didn't want to, Randall vowed to do this. Every scale threatened to turn a dull, sickly purple in emotional response, but he kept it under control. As he walked past Becca, she reached over to grasp one of his hands in gratitude. "Thanks. I appreciate it." She smiled quietly.

That made the task much easier to carry out.

…

He survived the chore, somehow. The entire time, he expected the vision of Suzie herself to appear at some point. But she didn't. Still, he kept an eye out when he returned to the others in the main hall.

"The forensics team found these by her grave," he showed them some battered novels. All science-fiction stories from the Human World, like 'Frankenstein' and 'Journey to the Center of the Earth.' "Books I stole for her birthday back in December. A bit rough for wear after being out in the highlands for so long. Here," He gave them to Becca. "You should have them."

She took them as if they were treasures of gold. One question simply couldn't go unspoken…"H—How did she look? OK?"

Bernard stopped Randall from responding. He said kindly, "Becca, sweetie, such a thing is far too much for us to handle—Naomi, calm down and stop pacing; everything's alright. And Randall…please don't tell us. It was a hard enough burden to bear out there in Iceland. Let us do as Becca suggested: remember Suzie as she was."

They all nodded without a word. Now all they had to do was wait. With the bright sunshine outside, everyone's moods were lifted. Suzie may be gone, but that didn't mean they couldn't be happy again. They left the funeral home with some measure of peace. The sunshine was bright outside, so when the ornate front doors were opened, they all blinked with blindness. It was a strange sensation, bringing Suzie back home. Almost elating, really.

Even Becca was feeling the effects, but still sighed in relief at leaving. "Whew! I'm glad that's all over. I've signed all the papers and important stuff. Only another ten days until Suzie is ready." She spun to face the others. "I'm more than ready to think about something else. So, you guys ready to get out of here? We have packing to do, after all, and it won't pack itself."

"Definitely!" Naomi hopped down the front steps. "Focus on happy times now, everyone. Not a gloomy place like this."

"It's just a funeral home, Princess. Honestly, you're overreacting a little too much." Randall noted.

"Am not! It's just so blue! Don't the monsters who work here feel sad all the time?"

"Not necessarily," Bernard cut it before an argument started. "I should think of working here as an opportunity to help families find peace and closure…"

Randall lingered a step behind. This whole afternoon hadn't been so bad, really…perhaps everyone was relieved. And even Becca was happy. _Weird, considering where we've just been_. He wondered. In the sunshine, he noticed his scales had taken on the dull, sickly color that tended to appear when he was miserable. It must've happened without his knowledge, and he flushed a normal purple back into his scales before anyone noticed. Maybe being at this place had affected him more than he thought…

The summer heat hit them like an oven. Before he went down the steps himself to follow the others, Randall saw someone else sitting on the bottom step. Not many monsters could handle this heat. It was positively _burning_ on the cement; why would anyone want to wait out—he blinked in surprise upon seeing that it was Suzie.

Bernard, Naomi and Becca all walked right past her. They were talking, but Randall didn't listen. He couldn't acknowledge Suzie, afraid of being overheard talking to thin air. The vision, or ghost, or whatever she was, watched as the others strolled by. "This is a weird place to be, isn't it, Randy? But at least Becca handled it like a champ. You guys are the most wonderful friends, ever!"

"Don't get all sappy, Suzie." Randall spoke under his breath. Then he noticed something different about the vision…her broken arm was straight. He stared at it in confusion. "How'd that happen? Am I just seeing things better than usual?"

She shrugged, still watching Becca. "Dunno. It just sort of fixed itself today." She interrupted Randall even before he could ask. "And no, Randy, I _still_ don't know why I'm still here. But I'm totally tagging along on this camping trip you guys have planned. I promise I won't get in the way!"

"Oh, please don't do that. Look, it's great seeing you and all, Suzie, but if you're hanging around all the time—" But he never finished. Upon next blinking, she was gone. Bernard called for him to catch up, so he hurried as inconspicuously as possible. He couldn't let them all know he was being haunted by a ghost. And now she had invited herself along on the trip, to boot. Why? She had to be hanging around for some reason…he sighed. For a ghost, she was certainly unsure about a lot of things.

…

The gang went to their respective homes to prepare for the road trip. The Mandragora Campgrounds were out in the countryside, and it would take a few hours to get there, so they were all set to go when they met at Bernard's house the next day. The Brennen's van was big enough to hold everything. Considering the group's experience in being out in the woods, there was plenty of space left over. But only Randall arrived at the Brennen's door that morning. Becca was confused, too, at the absence of Naomi. With their own stuff packed and ready, they waited outside while Bernard quickly phoned up her house.

"Think anything happened?" Randall asked, sitting on the van's tailgate. "It's not really like her to be late."

"Nah. She's probably just fussing over some stupid last-minute-packing dilemma." Becca concluded. "Don't see what the big deal is. It's not like we haven't done this before."

Randall crossed every arm with impatience. Naomi was already hampering the trip! And it hadn't even started, yet. Becca was in exactly the same mood, so they made a game of taking turns guessing of what the 'terrible calamity' holdup was. They laughed and joked about it—until Randall spied a suspicious royal-blue shadow out of the corner of his eye. It was in the backseat of the van, but still indistinct. _Oh no…don't tell me she was serious about tagging along…_

The image never fully came into view. Randall's attention was torn away when Bernard came out to the van, anyway.

"Well, we'll have to make a pick-up stop at Naomi's," the older monster announced. "Seems she's got too much to carry."

Randall and Becca groaned with exasperation. Yet at the same time, it was kind of funny.

…

They got going much later than expected. It seemed as though Naomi was taking along a whole household of things that she insisted were important. The van was now packed full, almost to the point where it was uncomfortable for Randall and Becca, who were in the backseat. They kept on trying to rearrange things as the van drove along.

"Geez, what the hell did you pack, Princess? There is only so much room in one car." Becca shoved a duffle bag out of the way.

"Only the essentials. Put that one back, I'm gonna need that the moment we get there." Naomi ordered upon hearing the bag rattle with pots and pans. "Bernard, you reserved a site with a big fire-pit, right?"

"Not to mention a place big enough for all of this junk?" Randall pointed out with a sneer.

"Quit moving my stuff!"

"No fighting in the car, please." Bernard scolded. "Yes, I got us a nice, big site right by the lake. It's just like one of the camps we had in Yellowstone. Right after I fell down that cliff, remember?" He glanced over his shoulder. "And Naomi, I think you overpacked just a tad. Fifteen bags is a bit much. Why did you bring so much cooking equipment, anyway?"

"Because I want to show you all what I've learned at the restaurant! Plus, Randall's been giving me lessons and I hardly burn anything at all now. Right, Randy?"

"No, I suppose not. Except for that last one with the pasta. Who knew it was even possible to flambé spaghetti?" He snickered at Naomi's amused scoff. She knew he was only joking, and began telling the others all about her newfound interest in cooking. As for Randall, he gazed out the window to watch the city sights fly by. Only a couple of hours until it would all be far behind…a part of him felt anxious. There hadn't been any sign of Suzie since yesterday, not counting the brief shadow he saw earlier. The ghost could pop up anytime, anywhere; maybe even here in the van! What a nightmare that would be…The week would be fun, just hanging out with his friends, without a care in the world. But with a ghost promising to be there, too? Things were sure to be awkward. But he decided to try and enjoy it as best he could.

…

The Mandragora Campgrounds was a secluded place, a few hours' drive outside of the city. Randall had never been here himself, but knew of it from reputation. Far off the main road, it had several dozen campsites in close proximity to a lake. It was nestled in a thick forest with lush, summery trees and wild mossy undergrowth. This being the Monster World, some trees looked a bit different: strange-colored leaves or branches that grew in demented, twisted shapes. One particular tree on the grounds was posted with warning signs, telling monsters not to get too close if they didn't want to break out in painful boils. The insects buzzed, hissed, spit, and breathed fire. Whatever fish swam downstream into the lake could have razor-sharp teeth and be eight feet long. On the grounds themselves were cleared grassy fields with playgrounds, hiking trails through the woods, and lots of trees that were safe enough for climbing. (Randall looked forward to that the most; far more of a challenge then sneaking out to the Louisiana swamps like he often did.)

The sight of tree branches intertwining overhead was a welcome sight after the road trip. Away from the main road, the outdoors became quieter all of a sudden, so Randall rolled down a window to listen to the still summer air. Although he had no wish to experience banishment again, it was nice to be out in the wilderness. Almost like going to a second home. He wondered if the others were having deja vu, as they drove through the park ranger checkpoint. Randall tried to read the others' expressions; Bernard humming at the wheel, Naomi fussing in the passenger seat, and Becca half-buried in duffle bags. Randall helped move some aside so she could breathe. _They all have to be having some sort of flashback, at least…_

He twisted around to toss the bag into the third row of seats—then almost yelled in surprise.

Suzie was lounging in the back. Or rather sitting on top of the mountain of Naomi's luggage…Randall kept his cool as she greeted cheerfully, "Hey there! You didn't think I was kidding, did you?"

Randall fought not to respond. Becca was in the seat next to him, totally unaware that her sister was here in some way. She didn't notice any odd behavior from Randall, though, so he acted casual and did his best to ignore the ghost. Not easy. Even after his warning gaze, she started reciting several corny jokes just for kicks. "Hey Randall, 'I once heard a joke about amnesia. But I forget how it goes!' Oh! And here's another one; you'll laugh at this…"

Randall rolled his eyes and stared out the window. _Oh boy…this week may not be as relaxing as I hoped…_

…

Only the lucky few campers were able to snag a site right by the water; the others wondered if Bernard had pulled some strings in order to reserve such a coveted spot. It was spacious, complete with an unobstructed view of the lake with the water's edge only a stone's throw away.

Becca wasted no time stepping into the water to cool down for a bit. The hot car trip had taken its toll on her, and her scales were very dry. Her part-aquatic, part-reptilian nature gave her mixed reactions to heat. Bernard got to work unloading the many tent poles. Randall planned on sleeping in the nearest tree like he always did, but helped with the chores as well. The gang was so used to the routine of setting up a camp that the task passed by quickly. It would have gone by faster, if only Naomi would lend more of a hand. She was far too focused on organizing all of the excess luggage. While the others split up to do different chores, her three blue eyes kept glowing red; one of her sunhats had been left behind, and she was very annoyed that she had forgotten it.

"You look ridiculous enough, anyway," Randall commented on Naomi's sundress, complete with a headband and hoop earrings. "We're camping, Princess. Not going to a backyard party."

"I look _fashionable_. I don't mind being out in the woods again, so long as I have all the comforts of home this time around. C'mon, help me find those barbecue-stick things. I know they're in one of these bags. At least I didn't forget those…I want to try making something that humans have when they're out camping." She explained of the process of making s'mores over a fire. Randall had heard of this sticky, messy dessert during his own time of banishment, but had never made them.

"Sounds disgusting, but I'll try it just to humor you." He found the barbecue sticks, and then noticed her fussing with yet another pink duffle bag. He sighed. "Now what are you doing?"

Naomi was fiddling with a weird contraption that resembled a collapsed tent. "What does it look like?" She took hold of the poles that joined in the center, gave them a press, and the whole thing suddenly popped up into a single-monster tent. The fabric was a floral-printed design and even had mesh windows on every side. Naomi smiled proudly. "Ta da! Instant tent! Nothing at all like those dirty old tarps we used to have. And you guys said I couldn't handle the woods."

Randall fought back a laugh. Bringing fifteen bags of luggage with all these luxuries wasn't exactly roughing it.

The monsters finished settling in before taking some time to unwind. Bernard was eager to try and catch something for dinner and headed down to the water's edge with a fishing pole. Naomi tagged along to work on her lavender suntan; she lounged on the warm rocks quite happily and admired the lake's view at the same time. Meanwhile, Becca kept returning to the water to stay cool. Randall came too close to the edge at one point, so she playfully snuck up behind and shoved him in. The lizard was mighty cross at first, but took the joke with one of his rare smiles in the end.

It was a perfect first day in the campgrounds. That evening they had freshly caught fish to eat as well as Naomi's s'mores. It was the weirdest dessert ever, but everyone loved it anyway.

"Mm…these are delicious. And so simple, too." Bernard exclaimed as he stuffed his face. Strings of marshmallow goo were stuck on his angler-fish teeth like spider webs. "Why have we never tried these before?"

"'Cause it sounded disgusting before." Randall groaned at Naomi's 'I-told-you-so' look. "OK. I take back what I said."

"Thanks!" said Naomi in satisfaction. "You know, I wish we had made these while we were banished. Then it would have felt ever so much more rewarding after a tough day of survival."

When the meal was over, Bernard stood up and stretched his back so hard that it cracked and his feather crest popped up. "Well, since it's nearly sunset, I think I'll chill in the hammock for a bit. What are you all going to do?"

"Catch up on celebrity gossip." Naomi whipped out her cell phone to start scrolling.

"You brought a _phone_? What part of roughing it do you not get?" Becca rolled her eyes. She stood up as well and looked out over the still waters of the lake. The whole picture was just like a smooth, glass mirror. Sunlight gleamed across the surface with the faintest tinges of gold and orange; twilight was fast approaching and she wanted to head out and experience it. "It's a nice evening; think I'll take a stroll around the lake. Being back in Mandragora is bringing up good memories. Wanna come, Randall?"

"Sure. Just don't shove me in the water again."

"Can't make any promises." She grinned slyly.

Bernard's five-hundred pound weight made the hammock sag. He reclined with eyes shut for a while, just listening to the summer crickets sing and the birds calling out. (Some of the more monstrous ones let out a screech or a roar.). Bernard was an observant man and had noticed Becca's change in attitude even over the last few days. He voiced his glad thoughts to Naomi, who seemed totally engrossed in whatever news she was scrolling through. "I can already tell this trip was a good idea," Bernard said, watching the others leave for an evening walk. "I haven't seen Becca this happy in ages. I, for one, hope it lasts."

Naomi didn't put her phone down. "Yeah. She and Randall have been spending a ton of time together. Ever since that rescue, he's been super-nice to her." She looked up for a moment. "It's almost like—" Something then caught her eye.

A blue-ish shadow was by the tree where Bernard's hammock was tied. With all the foliage Naomi almost missed it completely. A monster snooping around?...But the figure vanished when she blinked; either it had moved, or she had imagined it. The idea of a stranger creeping around frightened Naomi. She stared at the spot where the shadow had been. Nothing was there now, and there was no nearby cover to hide behind even if it _had_ been another monster. The incident left her confused, so she got up to have a better look around.

"What is it? Animals?" Bernard followed her gaze.

She didn't answer right away. Nothing was here. The blue shadow had to have been her imagination…right? But it had looked so solid. "Uh—maybe?..." She searched around the nearby bushes for good measure, but there wasn't another soul in sight. "It's gone, now. I thought it was—never mind. Maybe I _will_ put the phone down…eat some more s'mores instead…"

Bernard didn't leave the hammock. Naomi's active imagination had always made her nervous. It hindered times out in the Human World during her turns on guard duty. He went right back to dozing without another worry.

That shadow had only been the briefest glance. But it had seemed somehow familiar…the moment left Naomi a bit disturbed. But she managed to shrug it off.

…

The layout of their campsite was familiar: tents pitched around the fire with various belongings and supplies strewn about. Only this time, the tents were not constructed of plastic tarps, quilts, or old wooden beams. This time, the monsters were actually camping for fun, instead of surviving for their lives. Things were much more comfortable this time around. They didn't even have to take turns on guard duty at night to watch for dangerous animals. Plus, there were no dangers in these woods. (Unless you counted that boil-bark tree.)

Randall didn't pitch a tent of his own. He just scrambled up a good tree overlooking the site to claim as his own. The tree's purplish-grey leaves would be excellent shelter. He could practice his camouflaging trick up here, matching the leaves to a tee. But there would be no hiding from Suzie up here…she was bound to make this week complicated.

The next several days were full of fun. Each one brought something new and they all forgot about their troubles, worries, and uncertainties. When the weekend arrived, the campgrounds became more crowded, but that didn't deter from making the most of the trip. The gang tossed a frisbee around in the park, went swimming in the lake, did many rounds of tree-climbing, and even more rounds of fishing. Bernard suggested hiking on the trails quite often; it was good exercise for his bad leg and hikes through the woods put them all in good spirits; even Naomi, who normally complained about traipsing through flies and spider webs.

Randall was enjoying himself. A stretch of relaxation was just what he needed before starting the engineering project back at the factory. But this trip would have been better if only that darn ghost stopped showing up!

Suzie was popping up everywhere! Along the hiking trails, exploring the rocks by the lakeshore, even trying to participate in games of catch. (Randall blundered and actually tossed a frisbee to her at one point. He'd had to come up with some lame excuse about the sun being in his eye.) One day she actually materialized _underwater_ as he was swimming. The episode shocked him so much that he inhaled and came up coughing.

"You alright?" Becca surfaced next to him. "Try not to breathe down there. It's really not good for most monsters." She teased, having the advantage of gills.

"Just—ran out of air." He thought fast.

Often Suzie just sat around the campsite. This was the most disquieting. If Randall saw her hanging around, he fought not to look at her. It was as if she had never left…while everyone else chatted, or played silly games like charades, the girl laughed along with everyone else. Randall was finding her impossible to ignore! She looked so solid and real that he had to keep reminding himself that she was dead…

Something odd was happening, though. Suzie's injuries didn't seem so bad now. Her broken arm was straight. That much was obvious. But a few cuts and bruises had disappeared, too. Late one evening, when the whole gang was roasting sausages over the fire, Randall tried to think of a reason as to _why_ Suzie was still appearing to him, and so often. And why was she apparently healing?

He glanced over at Becca, who was trying to fit eight sausages on one stick. Randall was glad she was having fun. Her mood had improved greatly ever since they recovered Suzie's remains. The ghost in question was here even now, watching as her sister laughed as all eight sausages slid off the stick and into the fire. Then Randall put two and two together. _Whatever the reason for Suzie's recovery_ …he thought about the ghost's injuries. _And for whatever reason she's still here_ , _Becca has something to do with it. I'll get to the bottom of this mystery eventually._

…

For many more days, the group had plenty of fun on their camping trip. But all of the Suzie sightings were making Randall crazy. It was nice to see her out here in the woods; the whole gang was back together, like nothing had happened. But at the same time, a guilty conscience arose every time he laid eyes on her. Nobody else could see her, a fact that was still puzzling. There had been several times this week when he'd come close to acknowledging her presence in front of the others. Randall pulled at his fronds in frustration. _This is going too far. Bernard's caught me talking to thin air several times already! Sooner or later, I'm going to goof and make them wonder if I've gone strange in the head! Suzie's must be doing it on purpose, just to annoy me._

One morning, before the sun had even risen, he woke up to a surprise sight: Suzie perched on the next branch. He gripped the tree with every limb so as not to fall out. The vision barely said 'hello' before chattering away excitedly. Not even fully awake, Randall rubbed his eyes, hoping this was a dream. Did she _have_ to show up this early?

"I haven't been to this place in years!" Suzie swung her legs back and forth, gazing through the branches down at the lake. "The last few days have been great. It's wonderful to be back; exactly as I remember…You know, Becca and I used to sneak out of the house just to come here to swim. We lived in the countryside at one point, so these grounds were close enough to walk to. I was pretty little at the time; Mom and Dad would get so mad!"

"Why are you up here? Can't I have a few minutes alone in a tree without ghosts bugging me?" Randall hissed, cranky from being woken up so early. "No offense, Suzie, but you'd better disappear before the others wake up."

"But we've hardly had a chance to talk for days! And I mean _really_ talk; not just a quick 'hi' before I have to blink out." She protested. "It's been torture, not talking to anybody. I popped back to your place to visit Rex, but Sam was hanging around so much that I was worried Rex would give me away. The boy is smart, but he's not good at being subtle. He promised to keep the secret, though."

"So why haven't _they_ seen you?" Randall gestured down at the tents. "Why only me? And my nephew, for that matter? I should think your own sister would be able to. You may have taken a liking to the kid, but that only brings up more questions than answers."

"I told you, I'm just not _ready_ for anyone else to see me." Suzie explained, still quite cheerful. She looked down at Bernard and Naomi's tents. A few days ago, she had contemplated talking to them…but changed her mind at the last minute. She couldn't be sure, but Naomi might have caught a glimpse of her. "…It's still too soon. But that might change; I haven't decided yet. You and Rex are the exceptions. So until further notice, that's the way things are going to be."

"Thanks. I feel so special." Randall crossed his arms with a frown.

Suzie didn't clue in to the sarcasm. "Congrats on that engineering project, by the way. Do you think Fungus will delay the progress in any way? He is a bit of a scatter-brain."

"Annoying as he is, at least he's reliable. He's the only one besides you guys who realizes I'm attempting to redeem myself. I guess you could say we're friends now." Randall concluded. He thought of all the factory workers who still had doubts and suspicions about him. "The past is not easily forgotten."

"True." Suzie shrugged. She then changed the subject to something less dramatic. "So tell me, what's on the agenda for today? Another fishing contest? Bernard's won every one so far."

"Only because he's a big cheater! Always diving in to catch them with those darn teeth. The stupid fish don't even have a chance to swim away." said Randall. "There are a few hiking trails we haven't explored yet. That's always fun. Naomi could keep pace with the rest of us were it not for her ridiculous camping wardrobe…"

Neither the living or non-living monster noticed Becca emerge from her tent. She yawned and stretched, basking in a ray of early-morning sunlight and listening to Randall talk to himself up in the tree. He was too high up for her to make out any words, but it seemed he was having an entire conversation up there. "Talking to yourself again? Old habits sure do die hard, Genius."

To cover the blunder, Randall pretended to be embarrassed. Talking to himself was still a regular habit anyway, and so no suspicions were raised.

The sunrise was only just beginning. Tinges of bright orange-gold light twinkled across the water, giving the whole lake a calm air. Many other campers had already left, since the weekend was over. But the gang planned on staying just another few days. This was perfect; it was much quieter now. Becca walked over to the edge of the campsite to admire the view. She started braiding her feelers thoughtfully—a normal habit when something was on her mind—and just stood there, perfectly content.

Randall didn't say anything. She looked so peaceful that if he bothered her now, she would likely lose her temper. Becca's tough personality meant she preferred to put on a strong air most of the time. Although she was not smiling, he could tell by her silence and relaxed body language that she was happy.

"It's early," Becca looked up at him in the branches. "There's still plenty of time 'till the others get up. Wanna walk around the lake before breakfast?"

He thought about it. If there was any chance the vision of Suzie would follow, he wasn't sure if wandering around the campgrounds was the best thing to do. But he would rather spend time with Becca then risk getting caught talking to thin air again. So he climbed headfirst down the tree. "Sure, why not? I've been up for a bit, already. Dealing with strange dreams…" He gave the ghost a warning glare when he reached the ground—but the tree branches were empty when he looked up.

Usually at about this time, the new day would coax an early-rising camper to fish for some breakfast. But with most of the park's other campers gone, there wasn't another monster in sight. The shores were nice and peaceful. The only sounds were fire-breathing dragonflies buzzing around and a few birds singing. Randall and Becca strolled leisurely and enjoyed it all; a walk around the lake was a good way to start their final day here. But he suspected there was more than just a morning walk on her mind. Something was clearly bothering her, for she was being extra quiet.

By the time they reached the opposite shore, he almost asked her what was wrong, but Becca spoke up on her own. "I've been meaning to talk to you…"

"What about? That whole thing at the funeral place wasn't just an act, was it?" he asked with worry.

"No. Quit jumping to conclusions." She trailed off, not sure how to continue.

For several more minutes, Randall waited on pins and needles for her to go on. They walked along the shore, swatting at flies for a while before he prompted. "Well?"

"Listen, I—I just want to say thanks." She finally said.

"For what?"

"For just…you know— _tolerating_ me these last few months." Becca spat out with reluctance. "With me hanging out at the factory so much, being so miserable all the time, and making you deal with it all, every single day? Every other monster in that place has been avoiding me like a parasite. Except you. And let's not forgot the whole jumping-off-a-roof thing…you've put up with even more then Bernard and Naomi have. So…thanks. For being so patient. And trust me, Randall, I believe you to be the most _impatient_ guy I've ever known."

He chuckled with a shrug. That was true.

"And another thing," Becca added. "I also never thanked you for saving me. You're a good friend."

It was rare when she spoke so honestly, and the statement seemed a bit ironic. Randall couldn't help but remember his first encounter with the gang of survivors. When they first met, he and Becca couldn't stand each other; she had even threatened to shoot him with a shotgun the very moment he stumbled into their campsite. Everything was so different, now. He took the chance to tell her, "You're welcome."

…

Circling the lake took a bit of time, but there was plenty of it since it was so early. The sunrise was underway by the time they returned to camp. Naomi was seen gathering up some cooking supplies to start breakfast. She looked a bit silly with a long sundress and oversized sunglasses on, which she raised to perch on her perfectly poofed lavender hair upon seeing their arrival. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "Where have you guys been?"

"Just a morning stroll. Can't we enjoy the scenery?" said Randall.

"Another walk around the lake. Interesting." Naomi pondered while rolling several giant, spotted eggs out of a bag. They were the size of basket balls, probably imported and very expensive.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Becca demanded about Naomi's comment.

"Nothing. Just making an observation. With both of you working at that factory, you're not driving each other crazy, are you?" she then pulled out a baseball bat to crack the eggs over a giant frying pan. "The last thing we all need is you guys losing your tempers at the same time."

"Hey, I can keep my head on straight if I want to! It just takes some practice." Randall insisted…then reconsidered. "Well, maybe a lot of practice and an insane amount of sheer luck."

Becca nodded. They each sat down on the log to watch Naomi breathe a jet of flame into the campfire. But they scooted a foot apart awkwardly after her strange comment.

Bernard was already up, stretching out his bad leg and gathering up some spices to use in the egg dish. He laughed, remembering how tensions had been high at times, back in the Human World. Having Randall join their survival group had definitely shaken things up. "We've all come a long way. There isn't one monster who will deny this: at first glance, we're not the most likely group of friends."

The others all agreed.

Naomi dug into her food, pleased at how the giant eggs had turned out. "Mm…that settles it. I'm signing up for a real cooking course the minute we get back. I want to learn how to make more stuff like this."

"Shame we have to go back today," Bernard noted, eating his own scrambled egg. "A lot of crazy things are happening back home. Nicholas is in the midst of hiring an entire staff for the new yacht alone! And he and Lucy are thinking of trying for a second child. Just imagine: I've only known Penny for a few months, and already may get a _second_ grandchild. It sounds good, but still a bit overwhelming," he said with a mixture of happiness and nerves. He gazed up at the tree branches, the greenery a soothing sight. "I could use another week out here before tackling the hustle and bustle of the city. Anyone else?"

"Yeah. But mini-vacations can only last so long, Bernard. This was still fun, though. And we've got to go back. Suzie will be ready soon," Becca smiled genuinely. "Everything is going _right_ for once…I doubt any moredisasters could be thrown our way. Nothing we can't handle, though. Why do you guys think I practice sharp-shooting?"

The smell of Naomi's spiced scrambled eggs filled the campsite to remind them of old times back in the Human World. Randall was glad of it. And Becca's statement was indeed true. Enough things had gone wrong ever since they had returned. What else could happen?

 **Slight foreshadowings about things to come. Both good and bad. Hope you enjoyed this part! And an extra-big thank you to all the nice reviews! It's really giving me more confidence in my writing skills. Stay tuned for more!**


	16. The Boating Accident

**Whew! This took forever, but you can't rush perfection. :) Plenty of drama in this chapter, with Randall slowly becoming friends again with Mike, Bernard getting into a serious accident, and Ghost Suzie causing a great stir when someone other then Randall and Rex catches a glimpse of her. I'm super-proud of how this turned out, so enjoy reading! See you at the bottom!**

Chapter Fifteen: The Boating Accident

For several weeks, Randall worked tirelessly. With the end of summer fast approaching, he longed to get a working prototype up and running. A full-size version of his new door station design was a huge undertaking. Much bigger then he thought, even with Fungus lending a hand. But Randall did his best to be patient.

He was only permitted three hours per work day in the workshop, with the rest of the time doing his job of routine maintenance tasks around the factory. There wasn't a minute to waste. He made the most of that precious allowed time cutting, welding and wiring machine parts. But it was vital he didn't rush. If even one step was messed up or done too quickly, the whole endeavor could be ruined. Then all of the brainstorming would be for nothing.

Fungus, being a Laugh Floor manager, spent far less time in the workshop. He couldn't make heads or tails of some of the futuristic blueprints half the time. Yet he was still willing to help in the construction. However, even with extra help, the project was slow-going.

Today, Randall was on his own.

All around the workshop were wires, new frame pieces, loose trinkets, cut sheet metal, and various tools. They were laid out on tables in an organized fashion. The inventor himself was in the thick of it all, wearing a welding mask with a blowtorch in one hand, working on the top part of the station's frame. It was a large section; already the pieces were molded into shape and now ready to be fit together. Randall's scales were a richer shade of purple today; he was in an exceptionally good mood. With the project coming along smoothly (if a bit behind schedule) and nothing terrible happening amongst his gang of friends, Randall was confident all would go well from here on out.

He went right on working in silence. All patience he possessed was being pushed to the limit, but he told himself the slow pace was worth it.

 _Finally. Eight days working on this one piece_ …he thought with relief, standing up to place the newly-built section on a rack to cool down. _This one's the last part for the frame. Now all that's left to do is put them all together and start the electrical work to interface with the system-_

"Wow. Look at all this stuff. Did you order more supplies for it to get this crowded in here?" came a voice from the workshop entrance.

Randall suppressed a groan, annoyed at his thoughts being interrupted. He did not acknowledge Wazowski as the green, one-eyed cyclops came in.

"If it wasn't so organized, I'd call this room a very clean junkyard."

"If that's meant to be a joke, Wazowski, it's not that funny. This is serious and there's hardly room for clowning around like you do on a daily basis." Randall frowned.

"Hey, all that clowning around has made me the top Laugher in these parts!" Mike said with pride. "Sometimes I find myself remembering old times long past, and discover a tremendous irony…" he put on a dramatic pose. "I think to myself: 'So _this_ is what it feels like, being number one!'" He pointed out to the former Scarer, who had once vied for a record-breaking spot. Mike didn't see any harm rubbing it in a little. But Randall only rolled his eyes and began tidying up the workspace with hardly any reaction. Mike was a bit surprised at the lizard's lack of resentment; after all, the tables had been turned.

"Hooray for you, making a fool of yourself." Randall said sarcastically. "I'm not in the mood to argue, Wazowski. Why are you here, other than to mock me?"

"Sorry. I just came to see how the work's going." Mike walked further in and surveyed the prototype's frame pieces, which rested disassembled on various tables. "Gotta admit, I had doubts before. But this project is looking pretty cool. The factory really could use an upgrade, the more I think about it. Did you know we've had the old door stations for over forty years? Forty! Did some research of my own and I, for one, am shocked the tech lasted that long."

Randall nodded. That same fact had surprised him, as well. He leaned against a steam pipe, every arm crossed, while Wazowski did an inspection of the workshop. Every few days this happened: a random check-in on the project. Randall didn't like being monitored so closely, but saw good sensible reason for it. He wasn't exactly the most trustworthy monster after the last machine he had built in this room. After ten minutes of Wazowski scrutinizing the work, he began to lose patience. "You done yet?"

"Well, I don't see anything that explodes, so yeah, I guess that's it. Think you'll have the whole thing set up next time?"

"Why do you care?" the lizard asked not in a nasty way, but more as an honest question.

"Just wondering. Sulley wants regular updates, and a lot of the other Laughers are curious what this thing'll look like. It's not gonna be like one of those retro sci-fi movie props, is it? 'Cause as fun as those old films are, their sets leave something to be desired."

"No. Think more 'new sports car' and less 'low-budget movie prop.'" Randall walked from table to table, still straightening things up. "It'll be ready for testing in another few weeks. Then every Scarer and even your dumb Laugher friends can see it. It'll be much better than the old system; much faster and far more efficient. Exactly what this company needs."

Again, Mike was surprised. Instead of vying for glory and recognition, Randall was doing something that would be a benefit to everyone here. And the lizard wasn't putting on airs or bragging around the factory about it. Although his short fuse and impatience hadn't changed, he was acting more and more like the old friend he had known all those years ago. When they first met, Mike remembered getting along great with Randall. They had been good friends before things changed during that semester at college. It was so baffling to look back upon, that Mike said aloud, "You know, it's kinda strange."

Randall kept on clearing up the tools. "What is?"

"Well, I've been wondering about something ever since you dragged me out to the swamps for that tour of your old hideout—that wasn't exactly fun, by the way. I was dealing with mosquito bites for days. But I never got around to asking you, Randall: We used to be friends. What happened?"

The question was difficult to answer. Randall wasn't even too sure what happened back then. For a minute, he was quiet as he contemplated the reasons. Getting accepted into that fraternity was what really changed their friendship. "I just…got involved with the wrong crowd, I guess… _'Cool kids_.' Humph…They treated me like dirt now that I look back on it."

Mike shrugged. "Yeah, Sulley clued in on that while he was there. Gosh. College days seem like yesterday, don't they?"

"You got expelled." Randall pointed out.

"True, true. But it was still awesome! Wish I could've done another round of Scare Games, only Laugh-themed, this time." Mike followed as Randall began to leave the workshop. "I'd slay it with my new jokes. Hm…Maybe I can talk Sulley into hosting a competition around the factory."

"Just don't ask me to be on your team. One round of those games was enough. You saw how I humiliated myself in the finale, remember?" The memory was not one that was enjoyable, but Mike seemed to find it hilarious.

"Those other guys have probably forgotten it—Maybe? Sooner or later, everyone has to learn to forgive and forget." He took one final look at the station-in-progress. "After the whole, you know, 'trying to kill us' thing," (Here, Randall frowned in annoyance.) "I didn't think you'd ever change. But with those friends of yours vouching for you, this big project, and this thing you've got going on with McKeen—"

"What thing?"

"Oh come on, the entire factory knows you saved her from committing suicide a while ago. As I was saying, your little gang of ex-banishies are a good influence. Just don't go all crazy and try to take over again, would you? It'd be a shame to throw you through another door."

"That's not funny, Wazowski."

They went down the piped-lined corridor towards the hidden entrance. From the outside, it still appeared as a wall of tools to deter other monsters form barging in. Once through, Randall pushed the fake wrench back in place to lock it.

"And good job saving McKeen, by the way," Mike added on. "She's one hell of a coach. Not the most popular, but all of the Scare Floor numbers are up, thanks to her tips and tricks."

"Thanks, I'll let her know. But I seriously didn't think of it as 'saving.' She just wasn't thinking straight at the time. But she's doing better these days. Especially since that camping trip…"

They kept on chatting, traversing the halls towards the foyer, talking like they used to long ago. Wazowski finally seemed to be coming around and trusting him again. It had taken forever. Randall still didn't consider them to be friends, but being on decent speaking terms was better than being rivals.

"So, how was the funeral?" Mike asked, curiously as to how it went.. "McKeen wanted her sister buried at the Phanes Cemetery, right?"

"That's where their parents are; yes." Randall answered. "It wasn't exactly a full-on formal funeral. It was just the four of us and a minister to say a few words…" He told of the solemn occasion, taking place a little over a week ago.

It had been a very peaceful day during which none of them had spoken much. The sun was shining to make the mood a bit less gloomy, though. The Phanes Cemetery was a beautiful, estate-like place of well-kempt pathways, with wildflowers and elegant willow trees growing around the perimeter. It felt more like a cheerful park for remembering good times, rather than focusing on loved ones' absences. The farewell to Suzie had given the entire gang the closure they all needed: her remains were finally laid to rest, right next to her parents.

Bernard had stayed quiet and respectful the whole time. There were many other gravesites nearby, and he took great care not to accidentally step on adjacent grounds. Naomi was half-crying as the minister read a long eulogy written by Becca. For a while, Randall had been distracted by terrible memories of Iceland; of the accident at sea that proved fatal. _It's wasn't fair, for her to die so young_ …He thought at one point. The only thing that brought his mind back to the present was Becca.

She had barely said a word that day. There had been a point during the eulogy when she made an odd sound—a gasp, as if choking up and trying to keep it together without anyone noticing. So Randall reached over and held her scaly hand. It was a gesture he had done without thinking; the only silent move that would comfort her at a time like this. And it worked. Becca calmed down considerably afterwards. They kept holding hands for a long while for some reason. And by the end of their goodbyes to Suzie, Becca had even smiled a little.

"…so it ended up being a pretty good day." Randall told Mike. "A bit depressing, but good all the same. Naomi was being over-dramatic as usual, but we all got through it. I'm just glad no one else was there. Made it much more personal."

"I hear ya. There was one funeral I was at where some monsters actually crashed the reception. Can you believe it? The things some jerks will do…" Mike began telling his own story, this one much more light-hearted.

Randall didn't pay much attention. His thoughts were still on that day at the cemetery. The vision—or ghost?—of Suzie herself hadn't shown up. He had expected her to, but was glad she hadn't. Having the vision watch and listen to her own funeral would've been strange. The occasion should have given her a reason to move on, but for whatever reason, she was _still_ hanging around. Randall didn't want to admit he was being haunted, but the ghost was still appearing at random times everywhere he went! Weather to see what the gang was up to, or just to chat and tell a few corny jokes, Randall couldn't understand her reason for being here. Even _she_ didn't know why, whenever the question was asked.

Mike kept droning on as they approached the main foyer. The cyclops was telling of all sorts of comical mishaps, laughing at the reception-crasher story. "…so the key to getting rid of such monsters is a good ol' fashioned threat to call the cops. Or just a quick food fight where they're the main targets. I recommended the food fight. Works every time."

Randall was getting tired of all this useless information and sighed. "Uh huh. Sure. When I want to be rid of somebody, I usually just disappear and leave—"

WHAM! A force crashed into him as he turned the corner.

Wazowski jumped back in alarm as the Scare Coach, McKeen, appeared. She was out of breath, running so fast that Randall was knocked to the ground from the impact. The collision caused his scales to turn the same forest-green, gold-speckled palette as her, but he was too stunned to notice.

He rubbed his shoulder in pain. "Ow! Geez, what the—"

"There you are, Randall!" Becca panted, pulling him to his feet. "Get up! Get _up_! We've gotta get going!"

"What's wrong? You look terrified." He noted her tangled feelers and frightful wide eyes.

"It's Bernard." Becca took a very deep breath. "I just got a call from Naomi; she was there when it happened. C'mon! I'll explain on the way. Or at least what I know so far—Naomi sounded totally hysterical on the phone." She grabbed his arm in a panic to pull him along. She paused for a moment. "Sorry, Mr. Wazowski, but this is an emergency. I already told the boss, and he gave us permission to leave."

"No problem. Hope everything's OK!" Mike barely had time to expression his concern as the two wove through the throngs of monsters going to and fro across the factory foyer.

Randall noticed the state of his scales and shook them back to purple. He demanded an explanation, for Becca _never_ acted like this unless it was super-serious. "Just what is going on?"

"There's been an accident."

The words alone made his stomach fall like a stone. Her fearful face combined with that abrupt explanation was enough to prompt him into running faster. He matched her pace, suddenly feeling as nervous as she looked. He only bit his lip and tried to stay calm. _Not something else going wrong. We just can't seem to catch a break!_

…

From what Becca had gathered, something had happened on one of the Brennens' fishing boats. Details were sketchy. The phone calls from Naomi were too frenzied to understand, even when they called back a third time.

Randall snatched the phone out of frustration. "Let me try. Naomi? You've got to slow down; we can't understand you. What's going on?"

He and Becca were half-running through the parking lot (the sheer size of which was enough to cover several football fields.) Randall switched to 'speaker phone' so they could both listen and decipher Naomi's words. Her high-pitched voice spoke so fast that the words were all jumbled together. "Omigosh, you guys! You expect me to stay _calm_ at a time like this?" Her voice was very shrill. "First there was a wave out of nowhere, then a crash, then a tip-and-fall-overboard, then the propellers, and Bernard was caught in the middle—"

"What?!" Randall and Becca exclaimed at the same time, both screeching to a halt.

"Omigosh, omigosh, it happened so _fast_! Completely out of nowhere! I tagged along for a fun day of helping out on the water, and then he almost gets killed, all because of one stupid wave and a bad boat-driver—"

" _Hey_! Take a breath and try to relax," Randall ordered. "Where are you?"

"The emergency room; Svenghouli Hospital. My mother works here, but she's the only one working on the top floor today, so she can't come down, and doesn't have her phone on her, and I don't want to leave the emergency ward in case the nurse comes out with some news, so I have no one to talk to! Can you guys get here quick? I'm freaking out!"

"Whoa, whoa, OK; just stay there and try not to fall to pieces. We're coming," He hung up and urged Becca to keep running. "Oh boy, Naomi's really losing it. We'd better hurry. There's a bus that goes right by the hospital. We'll be there in ten minutes if we catch it."

Becca's terrified expression had edged off a little, now that they were on their way. "What the hell?—did I hear all that right? Did Naomi say there was a _propeller_ involved? It really must be bad. I've never heard her so sound so crazy before…Geez…Bernard isn't the luckiest of monsters, is he?"

Both remembered when he fell down a cliff last year, during their summer of hiding out in Yellowstone Park. That had been a horrible trial…whatever was going on now sounded far worse.

…

Like most medical facilities, the hospital was clean and spotless both inside and out. It was a big place, a full ten stories high with red trim painted on the building's edges. Randall had only been here once or twice before when he was a kid. It seemed much bigger then he remembered.

Knowing Naomi, she had likely blundered giving instructions on where to find her. But Randall and Becca found her easily, standing outside by the emergency room entrance. There were a few jumbo-sized ambulances parked nearby, but no big emergencies seemed to be taking place right now. All was still around her. A few medics, nurses, and other hospital personnel were around, talking to her, but they backed off and gave the group space as her friends approached.

"Thank God you're here!" Naomi cried out, running up to them. "Do you have _any_ idea what you've put me through with all this waiting?! You'll never guess what my day has been like!"

"Enough about you, Princess. Let's just head in and find out what's going on. Explain on the way, alright?" Randall steered her towards the entrance. "Acting hysterical won't help."

"I'm sorry. I'm just so shaken up!" Naomi took a deep breath. "C'mon. Bernard got rushed in by some doctors the second we got here. All the crew on the boat got him back to shore super-fast, before it was too late. Omigosh, it was so _gruesome_ I almost _died_ …"

She led them down a short hall into the emergency ward's waiting area: a big, open room with rows upon rows of chairs. Some of them were occupied by members of the Brennens' fishing company; employees wearing shirts with the company's three-eyed-fish logo, and many of these monsters smelled of saltwater, as if they had jumped into the ocean and since dried off. The fishermen were mostly big, burly monsters who were perfectly suited to working on a boat. A few were a bit smaller, wearing dockhand uniforms. But every one of them had the same look of worry written on their face. Randall guessed these were the guys who had rescued Bernard and brought him here…but it was clear none of them knew how he was doing now. Whatever had happened, anyway?

He noticed Naomi's disheveled look. The lavender monster was wearing shorts with a girly floral-print top—a bit overdressed for helping out on a fishing boat—and also smelled of the ocean. Her always-perfect hair hung slightly damp down her back and her eyes were bloodshot from crying. But she was far too upset to mind about her appearance, now.

Some of the monsters in here were other patients waiting to be seen. Nothing too serious; maybe a broken wrist or two. One fellow—a dragon-like monster—kept sneezing fireballs across the room, while his wife waited nearby with a fire extinguisher. A few patients were even napping in their chairs as they waited. The three friends went across the room to join Nicholas, who sat in a chair, fidgeting. Bernard's son was the spitting image of him: the same colorful feather crest, same build, and the same angler-fish teeth. (Albeit a bit smaller.) The only major difference was Nick's bright orange skin, as opposed to Bernard's red. The man looked to be in almost a state of shock. He was being so quiet that it was almost disturbing.

"Hey, Nick." Becca began carefully, taking a nearby seat. "Are you the only one here?"

"No. Penny was so upset…Lucy, too. We—we thought it best to take Penny to the children's ward; there's a playroom there for the kids…It'll help take her mind off things." Nick sighed and leaned forward to prop his elbows on his knees, holding his head. The swinging double-doors into the rest of emergency were nearby. He kept glancing at it every ten seconds, anxiously hoping someone would come through. "There's nothing to do now except wait."

"Naomi, tell us what happened out there," said Randall, pulling her and Becca aside. "Becca and I are still in the dark here. You said something about a propeller? If Bernard's getting fixing up right now, it can't that be all that bad, right?"

"Well…" Naomi didn't agree. She had calmed down, and was ready to explain fully. After a breath of hesitation, she began. "It went like this: I had the day off work today and wanted to try out some new recipes, you know? What I wanted to do was a special seafood casserole-thing, so Bernard was like: 'Why don't you come out on the water with us?' Then I was like: 'Totally! Dibs on the fish before they hit the market!' And it's always nice out on the water, anyway, so I thought it would be fun, even if I didn't catch anything. One of the guys onboard was some new guy learning to steer the boat, I think, but I don't think anyone could've stopped it from happening…"

…

 _It was a perfect day for being out on the water. Not too hot, not too windy, and the waves were fair, for the most part. Naomi liked the gang's summer days of boating and fun—though she had yet to see the Brennen's new yacht—but this was her first time on a fishing boat._

 _It was one of many in the family company. Painted white, with the three-eyed-fish logo on the side, it carried the faint odor of salt and gutted fish. (A lovely smell by monster standards.) This particular one was a smaller vessel in the fleet, more suited for outings closer to shore. Naomi put her clawed hands on the railing to inhale an ocean breeze. It picked up her lavender hair to toss it around, but she didn't mind. The many pet peeves of hers were becoming less extreme these days. The skyline of Monstropolis Port was still in view; docked boats and beachside buildings were close enough that she could still see monsters walking along the pier. Yet the boat was far enough out that a lovely sense of adventure was brewing._

" _It's perfect out here! Hey, Bernard," she walked across the deck to where he was readying an extra net. "Do you think this is what Randall and Suzie did? You know, when they sailed back from Europe?"_

 _Bernard shook his head. "Doubt it. They couldn't exactly go out on deck, could they?"_

" _Oh. Right." Naomi could have slapped herself in the face for forgetting they had merely been stowaways._

 _The five other workers on board were all hefty monsters, capable of heavy lifting and hauling in big nets of fish. One of them was in the cabin, driving the boat, while the others were on deck doing chores such as testing the rigging, coiling rope, and preparing the nets. They were friendly sorts and chatted with Naomi, treating her like a guest of honor. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that Bernard, the founder of the company, was on board. But she was enjoying the attention nonetheless. Some of these guys weren't that bad to look at. Perhaps helping out with the chores around here wouldn't be so terrible._

 _It was great to see Bernard in his element. He had always been a natural leader; fair and understanding. Not to mention an expert when it came to this field. He went from crewmember to crewmember, asking them how things were going with the work preparations and lending a hand if necessary._

" _So, how long until we reach the fishing grounds?" Naomi asked cheerfully._

" _Not long. Just remember to stay clear of the nets." Bernard warned as they strolled towards the stern. "Knowing you, Princess, you might get all tangled up when it's time to toss them in the water. No offense."_

 _She shrugged. Being out here was a far cry from her usual pastimes. In the past, she would never even ventured_ near _a fishing boat. "Yeah, you're probably right. But I still get to catch something on my own, right? That seafood dish I want to make calls for it."_

"' _Course. Got some poles all set for you—"_

 _A sudden wave hit the side of the boat, knocking everyone to the deck._

" _Whoa! Watch it!" Naomi called crossly at the cabin. The tropical blue, saber-toothed monster driving this thing made an apologetic face._

 _The rest of the five-monster crew got to their feet—in one case, flippers—also a bit shaken. The water was getting a tad rough, not like anyone expected. Bernard checked to make sure go one was injured. He moved towards the very end of the stern, going to each crewmember, while Naomi trailed behind, still chatting away. He leaned over the boat's end to check that the propellers were still working properly after that big lurch._

"… _so I might need Randall's help when it comes to the actual cooking part. Depending I catch anything. Oh! And I found a community college that offers cooking classes! It's going to be so much fun. Mother is so proud of all the progress I've made since coming home—"_

" _Watch out!" A crewman at starboard shouted a warning too late. No one had time to brace themselves for another big wave._

 _It was sudden and came out of the blue. Much stronger then the first one. The small vessel jerked roughly as the wave hit the starboard side with enough force to knock everyone down again. Ocean spray flew up to give them all a light shower. Naomi rubbed her knees, hoping they wouldn't bruise. Since the back of the boat had no railing, she considered herself fortunate she hadn't fallen overboard—the tremendous 'SPLASH!' told her Bernard wasn't as lucky._

 _She wasn't too sure what had happened. One moment, Bernard was standing right there next to her. Then he was gone; fallen overboard right off the stern. The propellers could still be heard whirring away. But there came a sudden, weird jolt—like something had gotten caught in them._

 _Naomi heard Bernard before seeing him; a horrible, bloodcurdling scream of pain unlike anything she'd ever heard before. "Stop the boat! Oh God, stop the boat! NOW!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Two other crewmembers who had seen Bernard fall did the same, shouting at the driver to cut the engines. She crawled to the boat's edge in panic to see the water turning red…_

…

The rest of the event only came in fragments of memory as Naomi tried to recall them. The crew acted fast. They had instantly rushed over to the stern to help, grabbing Bernard's flailing hands before he got pulled underwater entirely. The propellers were shut off…though not before being doused in blood. There was so much of it clouding the water that when Naomi peeked over the deck a second time, she vomited in disgust.

Bernard's leg had gotten pulled into a propeller.

The crew knew first aid, and radioed for an ambulance to meet them at the docks before speeding back to shore. It was lucky they weren't that far out, when every minute counted. It was surreal…seeing the giant form of Bernard just _lying_ there, motionless on the deck, half-passed out, with the crew shouting orders to try and get the situation under control. They had wrapped his leg with whatever was available on board, even using some of their own shirts. Naomi had panicked, but tried to help as best she could, fetching a first aid kit from the cabin or something. She couldn't remember all the details. It was all so horrible, she didn't even _want_ to remember.

"…it happened so _fast_! His leg was so mangled up the skin was practically hanging off the bone! I could barely look! I kept out of the way, for the most part," Naomi told Randall and Becca. "The crew knew what to do. Unlike me, who was running around like a crazy woman, screaming my head off like the end of the world was here!"

"Hey, _relax_! It's over now," Becca said before another panic attack could begin.

"Oh, it is _not_ over, by far! Don't you guys _get it_? Bernard is still in big trouble, here; his leg was almost ripped to shreds and—"

"For God's sake, get ahold of yourself and _breathe_!" Randall scolded sternly. Her eyes went wide at the abruptness. "Naomi, there's nothing you could've done to prepare for something like that. That's the trouble with freak accidents," he said, with all the common sense he could muster. "They just _happen_. Without any warning, whatsoever. So let's all keep our heads and focus on what's happening _now_. Think you can do that?"

Naomi sniffed. "Yeah…you're right. But it's really bad…"

"How bad?"

"'Leg-almost-chopped-into-tiny-little-pieces' bad. It was his right leg that got caught; the one that makes him limp. I'm not even sure they can save it."

The statement was disturbing. Bernard's leg hadn't been quite right ever since the tumble down a cliff last year. Now it was sure to be even worse. The three friends didn't feel like talking about it anymore and sat in the waiting room in silence. Nicholas sat near and had heard the entire conversation. But like his father, he was a quiet sort and was dealing with the accident in a very solemn way. He fidgeted in his chair without a word. It was unlikely he would say anything until the nurse came out with news on his father's condition.

Naomi dried her bloodshot eyes, too traumatized by the day's events. She hugged her knees anxiously and tried to distract her mind by flipping through magazines. It didn't work, and she ended up pacing around the room to keep busy. Becca and Randall were more subdued, sitting still in their chairs. But it was eerily quiet in the room; the waiting game could really be torture, sometimes…

She and Randall exchanged a look. Without words, they could tell what the other was thinking: not another disaster…Becca scooted a bit closer, not showing her true emotions, but still wanting reassurance that everything would be OK. So Randall put an arm around her in a subtle hug. That was enough; neither he nor Becca wanted others to see their soft sides, but no one was paying attention anyway. They were all too wrapped up in their own fears.

…

A few hours passed before Bernard was allowed visitors. Even then, the nurse told them 'family members only' for now. But she did give an update to all the waiting monsters: that Bernard was stable, out of danger, and resting in his own private room. Now she was over by the set of double-doors, speaking to Nicholas and the rest of the family in private. Whatever she was saying seemed to be worrying them; all sorts of mixed emotions could be read on their faces: from fear, to joy, to sadness all at once.

"I could sneak in; let you know how he's doing—" Randall began, ready to go invisible to get past security.

"Not necessary, Genius." Becca whispered as the Brennens came over.

Nicholas' wife, Lucy, was a tall, pretty monster with short, spiky hair and a yellow complexion. Her long arms held the sleepy Penny with great effort. Although the little girl was only the same age as Rex, she had the same strong, gorilla-like build of her father. But she had some of Lucy's traits as well, with the same yellow skin and long-lashed eyes. Nick took her in his arms to give his wife a break. All three of them were exhausted from waiting, but had immensely strong expressions of relief. Nicholas beckoned for Randall and the girls to follow them with the nurse.

"But I thought only family was allowed?" wondered Naomi.

"The rule applies to you all, too." Nick smiled as the nurse ushered the group through the doors. "C'mon. Dad's in rough shape, but he's conscience."

"How bad is it? The leg, I mean?" Randall asked sharply, unable to stand not knowing any longer.

Nick did not answer; only grimaced with uncertainty as the nurse led them through the hospital corridors.

The room assigned to Bernard was extra-large, on the ground floor. Everything in this wing of the hospital was of a larger scale: wider doorways and oversized beds, made for patients who happened to be bigger monsters. (Bernard definitely fit into that category, for he stood even taller than Sullivan.) His room had a window overlooking a garden made for patients who wanted to walk outside for fresh air. Since it was getting late in the day, all the sunlight streaming in was golden-orange with the sunset. It certainly made the atmosphere less tense as the group of visitors filed in.

Bernard was lying on the bed, his right leg so wrapped up in bandages that it looked considerably larger than the other. It never did heal properly ever since that break…Randall cringed—what would that leg be like afterwards, now that it had suffered even more damage?

"Good to see you all," Bernard greeted weakly, barely lifting his head. "So, how have your days been?"

"Good grief, Bernard, how are so _calm_ all the time?!" Naomi spat out, rushing over to his side. "I've been freaking out, here! Are you OK? Is your leg gonna be OK?"

"Chill, Princess." Randall said. Aside from Bernard's drained pallor and tired eyes, he was looking well. His feather crest was limp, though, and he moved his arms with great effort. It was obvious the ordeal and surgery had left him completely worn out.

"Everything's fine, now…I hope." He said as Penny climbed onto the bed to give her grandfather a big hug.

"You really gave us a scare, Dad," Nicholas sat down in a squashy armchair, with Lucy taking another. "Everyone in the company is worried. Don't know how word about this spread so quickly; I've gotten over a hundred texts from them, asking about you. Do you want me to send a message along? Let them know what's happening?"

"Well…don't give out too many details just yet. This is a lot more complicated then it seems." Bernard gestured at the bandaged leg. "Propeller blades really pack a punch, you know."

"This is hardly a time for jokes." Becca crossed her arms. "Tell us _why_ it's complicated. What the he—" she stopped herself, remembering that Penny was here. The little girl was sleepy, half-dozing in the nook of her grandfather's arm, but Becca watched the language, anyway. "I mean—what does 'complicated' imply?"

"The nurse told us," Nicholas cut in, referring to himself and Lucy. "The wound is still open, so—"

"What? Why? Can't those doctors fix it?" Becca said angrily, masking how worried she was.

"Everyone stop talking and let me explain," Bernard said. He lay his head back onto the pillow, exhausted, and went on. "Seawater got into the wound, and is making things difficult. The doctors decided not to stitch it up too much to give the water time to drain out. 'Cause if it gets infected, its back to the operating table."

"You don't mean…?" Naomi shuddered in horror.

He sighed in regret. "It's only a possibility…To tell the truth, I wouldn't really mind if I lost the leg. After all, it hasn't been working right for ages…"

Gradually, Becca and Naomi's fears subsided as he reassured them. Penny even wondered if he would get a 'robot leg' that would make him leap fifty feet in the air, or run as fast as a train. Her innocent questions made her parents laugh, and Bernard even managed one, despite his current state. The big red monster assured everyone he wasn't worried about the final outcome, whatever it may be. Weather the leg was saved or not, he would just be happy to get out of this hospital.

Randall remained quiet and observant. The accident was bringing up painful memories from the Human World. Like the time those hunters had shot him and he had had to perform minor surgery on himself. _What a painful day that was. Literally_ …He self-consciously put a hand on his left side, where the scarring was. Back then, he'd been on his own with no help whatsoever. It had been a trying time to say the least _. Good thing Bernard's in better hands then I was. Things will work out just fine. They always do, right?_ Randall tried to convince himself.

As the others crowded around Bernard's hospital bed to talk about what the doctors had said, Randall noticed a too-familiar presence out of the corner of his eye. He went stiff.

 _Oh no. Not here. Not_ now _, with everyone in the same room!_

The vision of Suzie stood in the evening sun, casting no shadow on the floor. The golden-orange light surrounded her, but also beamed right through her, making her look more other-worldly than ever. She was biting her bottom lip and braiding her feelers anxiously at the sight of Bernard. Kind, fatherly Bernard, whom she had always looked up to, wounded and frail on a hospital bed…It really bothered her.

She gazed over at Randall to say something, but he shot her a warning glare. If she started talking and distracted him too much, he would surely slip up and reply. And how was he to explain if the others if that happened? Talking to thin air in full-blown conversation was not a normal thing to do.

Randall casually swatted the air as if shooing away a bug, telling the ghost to leave. But she didn't. So he did the only option left: ignored her. He didn't even make further eye contact. Suzie would take the hint and keep quiet, all being well.

Becca was telling a story about a hopeless new Scarer she was training at the factory, and everyone was laughing about it enough to not notice any odd behavior from Randall. He tried to focus on Becca instead of paying attention to the dead girl standing by the window. All the sunset beams really made her look more like an eerie ghost then the Suzie he remembered.

Something was different about the vision. It was much more obvious this time: even more of her bruises had faded. The ones on her broken arm were completely gone, now. Not to mention the arm was also fully healed. Whatever was she playing at? The theory in mind had yet to be confirmed, but Randall was becoming more confident each time the vision showed up. _It's gotta have something to do with Becca. I'm sure of it._ He mused.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden gasp from Bernard.

The big red monster would've sat bolt upright were he not so weak. He did manage to prop himself up on one elbow, and was staring at the window with the oddest expression—a mixture of shock and awe, perhaps? His eyes were very wide as if he had woken up from a nightmare.

"Dad?" Nick started. Everyone else sat up straighter in alarm, wondering if Bernard was feeling well.

"Want me to call the nurse?" Naomi offered. "Oh dear, oh dear, you shouldn't get up so fast! Not after what you've been through today."

"Lie down, Dad; you've lost a lot of blood, don't forget."

"No, I'm—I'm fine. I just…" he blinked a few times, still gazing towards the window. With the whole room staring in concern, he hurriedly explained. "Sorry. It must be whatever painkillers they've got me on. Making me see things, that's all."

Randall inhaled sharply. He glanced over at Suzie—but she had already vanished. A tense feeling rose in his chest as he fought not to panic. _That did_ not _just happen…please tell me that did_ not _just happen…_

Outwardly, he stayed cool and collected. But while the others put the moment behind them, his mind raced. What craziness was arising, now?! The moment he found her, he intended to have a little chat with that girl. _Just what we need: a ghost with a bad sense of timing._

…

Rex scurried through the house, trying to find the perfect hiding spot. Of course, he could just become invisible, or camouflage himself to match the walls, but that would be cheating. Playing hide-and-seek had to have its own set of rules, sometimes.

The Boggs household was pretty quiet tonight. Sam was in the kitchen, doing some extra work on a laptop, and Uncle Randy wasn't back yet from the hospital. Rex sure hoped Mr. Bernard was going to be OK. He wasn't too sure what had happened; Sam hadn't gone into details after the phone call from the Brennens. But Rex was positive that it was very bad news. He'd have to ask Uncle Randy about it later. So until his uncle got home, it was just him and Miss Suzie.

"What are you up to?" Sam looked up in amusement as Rex came in, scanned the room, and dashed right back out.

"I gotta hide! Or she'll win another round!"

Sam chuckled and returned to the laptop. An imaginary friend; Rex had been playing with her off and on quite often. "Good to see him using his imagination…"

The little orange monster settled on the hall closet for a hiding place. He got his single orange frond caught in the door, but he didn't even yelp, for fear of Suzie hearing. He got himself into the closet without injury, and went extra-quiet. She had to have finished counting by now. Then she would start popping up all over the house to find him. Sometimes he saw her disappearing and reappearing; it was weird. The ghost didn't fade away or float around like the ghosts did in stories or scary movies. She just vanished when he blinked. And she looked solid, not transparent, and walked on the ground like any other monster. But Rex had learned she couldn't pick things up, or interact with the world around her—save for talking to him and Uncle Randy.

Rex peeked through the keyhole in the closet door to glimpse Suzie across the hall in the living room. She was checking behind all the furniture; not moving it, just looking around to see if he was there. Rex tried not to giggle. This was so fun! Miss Suzie must be having fun, too; ever since her broken arm had healed, she had been very happy.

The ghost turned to squint at the hall closet suspiciously. Rex backed away from the door and hid amongst the winter coats and rain jackets. Still, he tried not to laugh in excitement.

The doorknob began to turn…

Huh? Could Suzie open doors, now? That wasn't normal. She always just popped into view without bothering with silly obstacles.

But it was his uncle who swung it open, with Miss Suzie standing right behind and sulking, disappointed that she hadn't gotten to the closet fast enough.

"Oh! Hi!" Rex waved. "I didn't hear you come in the house, Uncle Randy."

"What are you two doing?" He said crossly, glancing from his nephew to the vision of Suzie.

"Hide-and-seek. Wanna join? It's more fun with more players." she said.

"No. Upstairs, both of you," Randall craned his neck to glimpse Sam down the hall, sitting in the kitchen. His brother was too absorbed in work to hear, but it didn't hurt to be careful. He had to have a talk with Suzie, and felt sure he would lose his temper. He ushered Rex to the staircase with Suzie close behind. "I thought I'd find you back here. After that stunt at the hospital, you wouldn't go anyplace else."

"Is anything wrong?" she asked innocently, already standing in the upstairs loft when the other two arrived.

" _Yes_ , something's wrong. What are you playing at, Suzie? And I don't mean a childish round of 'hide-and-seek.'" Randall hissed angrily. " _Bernard saw you_! I know he did! And a few weeks ago during the camping trip, Naomi told us she'd been 'seeing things' around our site; she thought it was some creeper trying to steal food, but I know you better then that. You've been hanging around long enough. You're wanting _them_ to see you, too, don't you?" He paced back and forth stressfully. "No offense, Rex, but having _you_ know about Suzie is quite enough to handle. And be careful playing around the house like that; Sam is bound to figure out something weird is going on."

"I haven't spilled the beans to anyone. Promise!" Rex climbed onto his bed to sit on the edge and listen. He didn't see the full reason for his uncle's ranting, but listened to see if there was a way to help.

The ghost starting braiding her fin-tipped feelers in thought. "Well…"

"Is it because of the boating accident? Bernard's leg?" Randall accused.

Still, she said nothing. The boat accident had sure been disturbing...

"It is, isn't it?" Randall concluded. "You're so worried about him that you're wanting to talk to him. I was hoping— _praying_ —this wouldn't happen! Suzie, we just had a _funeral_ for you! You're gone! How would the others react if they could suddenly see you _now,_ of all times?"

"Well…they'd freak out, that's for sure. Kind of like you did. But they'd calm down after a while! That was a very nice funeral, by the way. I enjoyed every word."

"So you really were there? The whole time?"

"Of course! I wanted to hear all the nice things everyone was going to say about me." Suzie grinned sneakily. "Becca really enjoyed it. When she gets all quiet and smiley, that's a good sign she's happy. You guys are all doing such a wonderful job, being there for her. And look!" Suzie held out her arm for Randall and Rex to see. "The bruises are all gone!"

 _So my theory of this mysterious healing is true. Her sister_ does _have something to do with it._ "You're trying to change the subject. Look, it's great that you're getting better—uh, healing, or whatever happens to ghosts," Randall then addressed both her and Rex. "But having anyone else see you is a bad idea. And Rex, please don't play games with her anymore. What if Sam think's you're crazy?"

"Hey, as far as anyone else is concerned, I'm an 'imaginary friend.'" Suzie cut in.

"I didn't ask you. Maybe I should just _tell_ the others about you!" Randall said sarcastically. "Tell them that a ghost-girl has been haunting me for _months_ , and that it's none other than the girl whose death I'm responsible for!"

"For the last time, it wasn't your fault." Suzie said gently. "And don't do that; we can't have anyone thinking you're nuts, can we? You've already come close to blowing the secret a couple of times, already."

"No thanks to you, popping up everywhere I go." Randall sat on the edge of Rex's bed and gripped the edge. He was totally stressed-out from everything going on today. The scrutiny regarding the engineering project, the boating accident, and now this: a ghostly secret threatening to be set loose. In a quieter tone, he asked her, "Do you plan on letting _Becca_ see you? Bernard and Naomi are one thing…but what about her? She's your sister."

Suzie shrugged. "I dunno….Maybe; or maybe not.…She's made such good progress that I'd hate to ruin it all by showing up. It would mentally scar her for life. You just keep doing what you're doing, Randall, and don't worry about me."

"But why are you still here? We had a funeral and final goodbyes. Shouldn't you be going?" He asked not for the first time.

Suzie ignored the question. "Oh, Rex; how about another round of hide-and-seek tomorrow? Best three out of five next time?"

"OK!" Rex agreed, clapping all of his hands. "See you tomorrow!" When he next blinked, the girl had vanished.

A distraught Randall looked up to see her gone, too. "Well, that's just perfect. Soon the gang will have its own sidekick hanging around and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"Don't worry, Uncle Randy," Rex sat down next to him, sensing the distress. "Everything'll be OK."

"Easy for you to say. All you have to worry about is picking a good hiding spot." Randall sighed. He desperately wanted to forget everything that had happened this afternoon. If only he could be like his nephew and hide somewhere. "…Wish I could do the same. Permanently." He had no idea what Suzie planned to do, and it bothered him immensely. How was he to explain to the others if this ghostly secret got out?

 **Random fact: the Phanes Cemetery (made-up place mentioned in this chapter) I named after Phanes, the Ancient Greek diety of the generation of new life. Seemed like a cool name for a cemetery. Yes, I am a nerd. lol**

 **I've done some re-dos with my plans for future chapters, and so much is happening that it looks like this tale is going to be the exact same length of HW: An Adventure. Not my original plan, but I'm not complaining! I love a good drama. Hope you'll stick with me until the end. :)**

 **Up next: With Bernard recovering from the accident, he begins seeing things and wonders if he's starting to lose his mind. Also, more of Randall's redemption, and some subtle hints here and there about how this story is going to end. (Can you figure it out?)**


	17. Suspicions and Secrets

**I had so much fun writing this part that it almost wrote itself. We have Bernard recovering from a horrible accident, Randall still attempting to redeem himself, and the secret of Ghost Suzie slowly being revealed with him getting caught in the middle. There are also little hints here and there about more things to come. Hope you enjoy and have fun reading!**

Chapter Sixteen: Suspicions and Secrets

Bernard's condition worsened.

Randall, Naomi and Becca, along with the rest of the Brennens, grew more upset with each hour that passed. Only three days after the accident, an infection in his leg was discovered; most likely from some bacteria in the seawater. The slashed-up wound was apparently a horror to look at. Doctors began treating Bernard with antibiotics, but with monster anatomies, serious injuries like this were complicated. Every monster was different (except for rare cases, like Naomi and her former sorority sisters) and some bodies were more resistant to medicines. It was unfortunate that Bernard turned out to be one of these. He developed a high fever and the pain in his right leg got so bad it felt like fire burning deep down into his very bones.

After another five days had passed, it was looking ever more dire.

Though the others hadn't laid eyes on his leg without the bandages, Bernard described it as 'a mass of dead flesh, held together with only tendons and stitches.' The skin was starting to change from red to moldy greenish-brown from the infection. The wound was on the verge of being life-threatening. So the doctors decided on the only option: amputation.

During the visit when Bernard dropped the news, the others all went disturbingly quiet. Then Naomi broke out crying, "Oh…I knew it. I just _knew_ it! I knew that rogue wave had some horrible motive in mind! What a freak accident…I've heard of boat propellers doing damage before, but never thought it would actually _happen_ , Bernard! Not to one of us! It's like getting struck by lightning; I mean, what are the odds?"

"It's OK, Naomi," Bernard was propped up in a sitting position on the hospital bed. He handed her a tissue. "I expected as much when the infection started. But I would be better off without this leg, anyway."

What he said made sense. The leg wasn't even salvageable by this point, and even if it _could_ be saved, it would still give the same permanent limp. Not to mention being disfigured and more painful to walk on, thanks to the boat propeller. Although Bernard seemed mentally ready and it was the best thing to do, it still bothered the rest of the gang.

…

Today was the day of the surgery. The Brennens—Nicholas, Lucy and Penny—were at the hospital to be there for Bernard. The gang of friends felt that the major operation was better left as a family-support thing and decided to go about their regular work days before heading there themselves. (Having things to do was better than sitting around a waiting room on pins and needles, anyway.)

Naomi went off to her job at the pancake house where she was learning quite a bit from working in the kitchen. She was much better at _not_ burning every scrap of food, now, thanks to Randall's cooking lessons. As for him and Becca, they went about their own respective tasks at the factory, doing maintenance and Scare coaching. When the lunch whistle blew, both hurried to meet in the cafeteria. Knowing that Bernard was getting a leg amputated today, there was much to discuss.

At a corner table by the window, it was a tad quieter. The rest of the cafeteria was being its rowdy self with messy and loud diners at every other table. (Food flying across the room was quite normal.) Randall and Becca sat side by side so as able to better talk in private.

"He should be in surgery by now…" Becca noted the clock on the wall. "Geez…it's hell, waiting around like this. How logn does it take for doctors to remove a leg? Think we should call Nick?"

Randall disagreed. "No, let's wait a bit longer. Lucy and Penny are there; Nick needs them more than us right now. I've never seen him so uneasy."

"Me neither. At the house, he's barely spoken since Bernard delivered the news. It's gonna be a big recovery afterwards. Bernard's liable to go nuts, sitting around with nothing to do. You remember how much of a royal pain he was back in Yellowstone? He drove us all crazy, he was so bored."

They both laughed; a good feeling after all the bad drama lately.

The lunch being served today was green pigskin sandwiches with squid sauce and freshly mown grass. As they slowly chewed distractedly, Becca brought up the fact that Penny was handling the whole situation far better than her parents. "…I don't think she understood what has going on at first. But yesterday she told Bernard she wanted to help chose an artificial leg when he was better."

Randall chuckled. "Wish it was that easy with my nephew. He still thinks Bernard will just grow one back. I keep telling him not everyone can do that, but he doesn't believe me. Just because Sam regenerated an arm that one time—"

"Whoa. Sam actually _grew an arm_ back? How? And why have I never heard of this 'till now?"

"We were teenagers," Randall explained. "Long story short: a car wreck crushed his left arm and it had to be taken off. Too much damage. But it grew back in weeks. Nobody expected it; it was just plain weird! Sam must've told Rex the whole story at some point. And now that same arm sports a sleeve tattoo."

"I don't suppose that's another trick that runs in the family?" Becca wondered.

"I'm sure not going to test that theory. I heard there are some animals in the Human World that can regenerate tails or limbs. Like starfish and some lizards."

"In the Human World? Wow. Where'd you learn that?" For a while, they talked about interesting subjects regarding animals from the other dimension. Having something else to focus on was better than worrying about Bernard in surgery right now. But the conversation drifted back there, anyway.

"When he's out of the hospital, he'll be home for weeks to recover." Becca took another bite of her pigskin-squid-grass sandwich. "If the painkillers make him all loopy, I'll be sure to film it. We could use it as blackmail! Or just for laughs."

This reminded Randall about something important. A subtle fear of his that only his nephew knew about. ' _Home for weeks.' Oh, great. That'll go by as uneventfully as possible for sure. What could possibly happen?_ He thought with extreme sarcasm.

 _Suzie's hardly been around since the day of the accident. You may not have anything to worry about._ His conscience said. _But you have to be ready to explain, should it come to that._

 _It's_ not _going to come to that! Suzie was bluffing. She had to be…she wouldn't just start showing up so that Bernard could see her too. Right?_ He remembered that moment at the hospital, when Bernard had sat bolt upright in shock. For the briefest moment, he had seen the ghost, too. Maybe the ghost wasn't bluffing and planned to appear once again. As for when, Randall had no idea…

 _You can't be too careful. Better come up with a plan now, while you can._

Randall scoffed at his own advice. _Explain the unexplainable. That'll go over well: 'Hey, Bernard, guess what? Either Suzie is haunting us or we're both nuts. Along with Rex.' Humph. There's no way—_

"Hey, Randall!" a random voice called, interrupting. A small, bat-winged monster and his furry, bug-eyed friend approached. Both had a mix of curiosity and suspicion on their faces as they approached the table. "A quick word, if you don't mind?"

Randall and Becca remained where they were, not sure what this was all about.

"We've been hearing things. Strange things. Is it true?" the bat-winged monster went on. Randall recognized him as Maurice, one of the Scarers whom he rarely spoke to. "Are you really building some sort of new door station?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Randall rolled his eyes, angry by yet another interrogation.

"'Course it is! Rumors are flying everywhere in this factory."

"Yeah, and we heard from Mike and Sulley what happened last time you did something like this," added Oscar, the furry monster.

"Sorry to disappoint, but this is different. I'm not hiding anything; Sullivan even gave me a go-ahead, so check with him if you're so paranoid." Randall snapped, losing his temper. It was obvious these two did not believe he was trying to make things right. How annoying. "Now get lost. Can't I eat my lunch in peace?"

"I don't think so." Insisted Maurice. "Where's this prototype being held? We wanna check for ourselves what's going on—"

"Hey! Are you idiots _trying_ to pick a fight?" Becca slammed her hand on the table. "Don't make me report you."

"But Miss McKeen, aren't you the least bit—"

"Quiet." She ordered. "He said to go check with Mr. Sullivan, and I suggest you do that." She insisted before nodding at Randall. "I can vouch for him. The prototype will be ready soon, so hold your horses and keep your opinions to yourselves until further notice. It'll mean less trouble for both of you. Got it?"

Maurice and Oscar nodded rapidly with their eyes wide in fear. They'd heard of the Scare Coach's tough ways, and didn't want to get on her bad side. So they backed off and left to go elsewhere in the cafeteria.

Randall lost sight of them in the crowd of diners. He turned to Becca. "Thanks for backing me up. No matter what I do, I still have a feeling not everyone around here likes me very much."

"I like you." She smiled. "You know I'll always back you up, Randy." She shifted in her seat, as if to move a bit closer—but thought better of it, since they were in the crowded cafeteria. It wouldn't do any favors for her reputation if anyone saw her being nice.

The two went on eating lunch, thinking up creative pranks to throw at anyone else who crossed their paths. It was all non-serious talk, but still fun to imagine. The mood was lifted, but in the back of their minds, one fact remained: there was still an entire afternoon to get through before Bernard was out of surgery.

…

Rumors were strange things. Once one began, it spread quickly and often warped into something else. If any explanations came about, nobody knew what version to believe and the truth was lost. Almost everyone in the factory had heard that Randall Boggs was building _something_. Some knew, while some only had a basic idea, but many feared the worst. The scandal from two years ago was not an easily forgotten piece of news.

Since the day of Bernard's boating accident, Randall had put in extra time working on the project, even going past his allotted three-hours-per-day of tinkering. It was a good distraction from the older monster's terrible plight. Thanks to the extra effort, the station prototype was now ready to be installed for testing. Randall planned to move it onto a Floor that very afternoon.

In the workshop, he stepped back to admire the masterpiece. The finished parts were spread out on the tables: two door clamps, a new control panel, and a newly designed hydraulic lift to bring doors down from the vault line. The pieces gleamed in chrome silver and really did look like a new sport car in comparison to the old stations.

Fungus dropped by to see how it was going. "This looks fantastic…" he admired the work. "It'll put the old ones to shame, sir. But will it even interface with the electrical system that we have?"

"It should. Hopefully…If not, I'll figure something out. C'mon; grab a cart. I want all this on Scare Floor A for set-up." Randall began carefully loading the station pieces onto a flatbed push-cart. "It's time to install this thing."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Monsters all over the factory are talking; not all good talk, either." Randall explained. "You should have seen the two jerks at lunch earlier. The only way to get them all off my back is to let them see I'm trying to do something good."

Scare Floor A had a station at the very end of the line that had been removed on Sullivan's orders. Randall was permitted to test his new invention here and given all the tools needed as well. This was a decent show of trust on Sullivan's part; perhaps he had hopes for this whole endeavor, too.

With Fungus lending a hand, the side clamps that held a door in place were installed, as well as part of the hydraulic lift that rose up from the floor. That part did not take too long. By the end of two hours, the next thing to be done was the extensive electrical wiring. Randall kept an eye on the clock, wanting to make the most of what precious time there was.

"OK, Fungus, you can go." He dismissed, donning some glasses. "I'm only allowed one more hour and I'll get more work done on my own…wish there were less distractions in here…" He frowned at the room full of Scare teams at work.

"Good luck, sir. Want me to go tell Sulley how it's going?" Fungus offered as he left.

"Sure. Thanks." Randall nodded. He was grateful for the help. Fungus had always been reliable, and now there was no need to go up to the main offices anymore. The less time spent talking to his worst enemy, the better.

The entire room was rather loud with the echoes of children's screams bouncing off the walls. The sounds of machines going, the digital status board on the wall, and monsters talking to each other made the room very distracting. The scarers often congratulated each other on scares-well-done with fish-bumps and high-fives. All this noise was hard to ignore, but it really couldn't be helped. But Randall kept his cool.

The new prototype may be at the very end of the line, but it still attracted a lot of attention. With the sleek silver clamps, new, yet-to-be-installed modern control box and panel, it was definitely eye-catching. The whole thing was modern and shiny. Nearby teams of scarers and assistants kept glancing this way. Although Randall longed for positive recognition around here, being stared like this at wasn't comfortable. He almost took off his glasses just to make the adjacent team a bit blurry. But there was wiring to be done; fine-detailed work that required seeing clearly. So he kept the glasses on and did his best to ignore everything else.

Most of the stares seemed to be negative. What he wasn't noticing were the fascinated ones; a few monsters were genuinely marveled at what was being built at the far end of the Floor.

An hour later, Randall was still sitting on the ground connecting wires between the clamps and the control box. It was tricky stuff…He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Nor did he notice someone approaching.

"Not bad, Genius," came Becca's voice. "Thought I'd drop in to see how it's going."

"Steady, I suppose," Randall nodded at the piles of tools and loose wires surrounding him. "The actual test is next week, all being well."

Becca was aware of the intense scrutiny he was under. "That'll prove everyone wrong. Some of the guys in the room are acting like you're plotting world domination. Honestly, you'd think monsters would consider giving you a second chance. Nervous?"

"Of course I am!" he whispered in a hiss. "My entire reputation, not to mention redemption, is on the line with this thing!"

"Try not to sweat it. You always pull through with your crazy ideas, right? This is no different." There was still a big bundle of wires to work on, and she could tell he was mentally exhausted and needed a break. She came closer so that the nearby scare team wouldn't eavesdrop. "Nick just called; he contacted Naomi, too. Bernard's out of surgery. The amputation went fine and we can go see him this evening. There'll just be…be a bit less of him, that's all." She tried to speak normally, but it came out as more of a sigh of sadness.

Bernard was OK. Good…Randall let out a great exhale. The accident had truly shaken up the entire group. Becca was being strong and standing with crossed arms in her usual tough stance, acting like everything was fine. But he knew better. That weary sigh had betrayed her. "This whole thing really bothers you, doesn't it? You alright?" he asked.

"Well, I—it's just that…for a while there, I thought Bernard was a goner." She spoke with hesitation, ashamed of admitting a fear, but wanting to tell of it anyway. "After Suzie died, I…"

"Hey, Bernard pulled through, didn't he? So everything's OK, now. Right?" But the words had no effect on Becca. So without thinking, he put his left arms around her to offer some reassurance. It was the only thing he could think of, since he had never been good with words. And much to his surprise, she accepted the light hug without pulling away. Much like in the aftermath of the suicide attempt. "To be honest, I thought we'd lose him, too." he admitted.

Becca sighed, glad to have someone to confess her fears to. "Yeah. I guess it'll take more than a boat propeller to do him in."

Then she quickly remembered where they were. She straightened up and pulled it together, for the nearby scare team was casting curious looks. "What the hell are you two staring at? Get back to work!"

The purple-spotted Scarer and her insectoid assistant hurriedly began calling for the next round of doors.

"Humph. Some monsters have no respect for others' privacy. Hope no one else saw that." Becca said to Randall as he knelt on the floor again to get back to work. As great as it was having a friend around, she regretted that moment of weakness and acted like herself once again with her usual bluntness. She brought up a more light-hearted subject. "So, Randall, after that chat at lunch, I got to wondering: Since your dad and brother have them, maybe we should think about getting some ink, too."

"Uh huh. Sure." He said sarcastically, not looking up. Then he realized it wasn't a joke and questioned, "Wait, are you serious? Why?"

"Just a thought. It'll give a creative use for some of those scars. But when you mentioned Sam's arm, I starting thinking of getting something like a remembrance tattoo for Suzie, but I'm not sure what of…"

Becca stuck around, chatting as Randall worked. The next coaching class wasn't for a while longer, so she had time to spare. They were completely unaware that they had been closely scrutinized for the last several minutes.

…

On the opposite end of the room, at the entrance to the Floor, Mike Wazowski was checking the prototype's progress from afar. Sulley had entrusted him with the job of giving regular updates on the thing and gosh darn it, he was going to do it! His best friend counted on him. Even from way over here, Mike could see Randall working away diligently. McKeen was over there, too, paying him a visit.

"You aren't _spying_ , by any chance, are you, Googely-Bear?" crooned a feminine voice. Celia Mae just happened to be gliding past with a stack of paperwork.

"Of course not, my sweet! I'm just doing my sworn duty of inspecting. Sulley trusts me, and this is an important job, you know." Mike squinted back onto the Floor, where Randall had stopped what he was doing to talk to McKeen.

"Well, you're doing an excellent job," Celia complimented. "I think a good upgrade will do the factory wonders." She too, looked over at the unfinished project—and noticed Becca McKeen become visibly upset about something. Whatever she was telling Randall must be bad news. She became sad enough that Randall actually put his arms around her in a hug. The lizard's expressions had always been hard to read, but he seemed a bit distraught as well. Celia shook her head; her living snake-hair mirrored her concern. "Oh dear. It must be about Mr. Brennen. Did you hear about the accident?"

"Yeah. What a shame…" said Mike. "Brennen's a real nice guy. But he only lost a leg; it could've been a lot worse. At least he's alive."

"Yes. That's a good way of looking at it." Celia delivered the stack of paperwork to the Floor manager. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Randall and Becca jump apart awkwardly upon noticing a nearby scare team staring at them. She giggled. It was kind of nice seeing those two acting kind towards one another. But Celia understood; they both had tough appearances to keep up.

…

A little later, the whistle blew to signal the end of the work day. Mike stretched out his arms and legs; it had been a long one. Numbers were up on the Laugh Floors, and he had had a great time practicing some new stand-up comedy on the human kids. Some of the younger ones just didn't understand jokes, so coming up with simpler material could be challenging.

He was in the mens' locker room. If he was going to take Celia Mae out for dinner, he had to spruce up a bit with some fresh odorant. That is, if he had any. Going all the way up to the factory offices just to borrow some from Sulley was way too much effort.

Other monsters were around, all grabbing lunchboxes and wallets before heading home. Mike caught wafts of conversation while walking by. A lot of it referred to whatever was being set up on Scare Floor A. Not all of it sounded positive, though...But a few opinionated whispers were better than a full-blown riot. Mike was impressed with all that was happening. If Randall really was trying to better himself, maybe they could even be friends again.

The green cyclops walked into a more deserted section of the locker rooms. As he got closer to his own locker, he heard some more conversation coming from around a corner. It was Randall's voice. And he was clearly in a heated argument with someone. Mike wasn't _really_ eavesdropping; he just _happened_ to be nearby. So hearing what was going on was sort of unavoidable.

"…so after missing for a whole week, you show up _now_? And why here, of all places?" Randall was saying angrily.

Mike opened his locker and found a near-empty can of oderant. Perfect; Celia loved the smell of 'low tide.' At the same time, he kept half an ear on the argument. Whoever Randall was mad at must've really crossed him.

"That's not funny. And don't change the subject!" Randall went on after a pause. "I've just about _had it_ with all your tricks."

There was an even longer pause. Mike didn't hear anyone else speaking. Was the other guy just too terrified to respond? Mike wouldn't blame him. But the cyclops only got more confused when Randall spoke yet again.

" _Why_ do you find this so funny? Can't you see I'm not laughing?...But how hard can it be to make up your mind?...No, I'm not going to explain to Bernard. You do it."

Huh? Just who was that lizard talking to? Mike's curiosity got the better of him. He tip-toed closer and peeked around the corner. Randall was leaning against a wall of lockers with every arm crossed, looking very annoyed. All while glaring at—the opposite wall?

There was another break of silence. Randall's expression changed from annoyed to utter defeat, as if he had lost the argument. He sighed and let his arms fall. Then he banged his head on the lockers for good measure. "Alright, alright, already!...Sometimes I just don't understand you. But you had better make up your mind soon."

Nobody else was here. Mike's one eye was wide in astonishment. He couldn't help but speak up. "Didn't get a screw lose in the Human World, did you, Randall?"

The lizard flinched. He partially blended into the lockers in surprise, but shook off the pattern. "How long have you been spying? Can't a guy have a few minutes of privacy?"

"I wasn't spying; my locker's right around the corner. Who are you talking to?"

"Myself. It's just a habit." Randall claimed. Despite the good acting, he still bore faint traces of nervousness.

Mike didn't fully buy it. "OK, then, if you want everyone to think you're nuts. Who were you talking to, really?" Picking arguments with co-workers was frowned upon. It would be a shame for Randall to ruin his attempts at redemption by fighting. The other guy must've only just slipped away or something, to avoid further confrontation. Mike waited for an explanation. None came. "Well? Who was here?"

"Nobody." Randall insisted. "And I'm in no mood for more interrogations. I've already dealt with enough today. So, if you don't mind, Wazowski, I have to be going." And with that, Randall went invisible.

Faint footsteps were heard as he went past; very rushed footsteps as if he wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. Mike stood there, totally dumbfounded. What was that all about? Maybe banishment really had knocked a few screws lose.

…

A week went by, and before long the big day came. Today was the day of Randall's big presentation to the head monster at the factory, James Sullivan. Bernard often heard of him in the newspapers. The guy sounded pretty popular, although Randall and Becca didn't seem to like him much. The lizard had been working overtime, preparing his machine, and the Bernard certainly hoped all was going well at the factory.

He had been released from the hospital only yesterday. Lying in a hospital bed got pretty dreary after a while. It was great to finally get out of there, even if he was missing a right leg. He went home to recover with many get-well gifts in tow: cards, balloons, and many books and puzzles that helped to kill boredom. He had had many visitors while there. It was pleasant to know how many monsters cared about him, but Bernard was happy to be home in a less-busy, much quieter place.

Adjusting to one leg would take some time.

Bernard was in the living room of his massive family home, reading, with his bandaged right leg—or rather, the stump—propped up on a cushion. It was very still and quiet right now. Nicholas was out with the fishing crews today, and Lucy and Penny were out running errands. Bernard didn't plan on getting up from the couch, and had assured them that he would be fine until they got back.

He put down the book to gaze at the stump with a sigh. "This is going to take ages to heal…"

The painkillers helped, but it still ached terribly. There was barely anything remaining. It was just a short, thick stump that felt like a weight, for it was very heavy with all the bandages and stitches. But in a weird way, Bernard was glad the leg was gone. Since that tumble down a cliff, it gave him constant pain, for it never did heal properly. After getting mutilated by a boat propeller, there would have undoubtedly been _more_ pain even if it had been saved.

"There are more pros then cons here," Bernard said aloud, although no one else was in the living room. "Maybe that boating accident was a good thing."

He crossed his arms behind his feather-crested head to lean back on the couch. All of the pain medication had some side effects of making him drowsy. Not that he was complaining. Hanging out at home and relaxing was a great way to heal. Way better than a stuffy hospital room—

Something suddenly caught his attention. He sat upright in alarm, so quickly that his head spun.

On the other side of the room, perched on the other sofa, was…he couldn't describe it. A glimmer? A trick of the light? Some sort of strange shadow, perhaps…? But it wasn't flat like a shadow, nor as dark as one. It was like a blue haze…

Bernard squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe those painkillers had other side effects. He rubbed his temples and looked again to see…nothing. Until now, he hadn't noticed the nervous sweat forming on his brow.

What was _that_? The shadow's outline had almost looked like—"No!" Bernard told himself in denial. The incident alarmed him…this was exactly like that moment in the hospital on the day of the accident. "No. It's only my imagination." Another wave of drowsiness overcame him and he had to lie back, rubbing his stump of a leg. "Or maybe it was just the drugs talking…"

Hopefully there wouldn't be any more weirdness when the rest of the gang came over tonight.

…

Randall was a giant bundle of nerves right now. The feeling of a twisted stomach had been growing all day and it was driving him crazy! He was on Scare Floor A, going over last-minute testing on the prototype before the presentation. The work day was over; the last whistle had blown, so the Floor was deserted. Perfect. He glanced at the big clock on the wall. There were still a few minutes to collect his thoughts, for an inner battle with his conscience was raging on.

 _OK. Everything's in place and working fine. Only thing left is to wait for Fungus and the big blue buffoon to show up. There's nothing to be jumpy about._

 _Are you kidding? Of course there is!_ He reconsidered. _What if no one likes this idea, or thinks I have ulterior motives? Then this whole idea is wasted. Nothing but scrap metal and nothing more._

 _Quit being paranoid and chill out._ The conscience told him. _You've worked hard to prove yourself. Just do this. What's the worst that could happen?_

 _Well_ …Randall pulled at his fronds, not being able to stand that inner voice for much longer. _Nothing, I guess. Banishment is illegal now, right? Last time I checked, anyway—_

"You seem terrified," said a real voice. "Is there anyone you want me to beat up for you?"

Randall stopped fretting. "I didn't see you come in."

"Just came to wish you luck." Becca stood back to admire the prototype. Its gleaming silver panels, new lights, and sleek design impressed her. It really was like a new, futuristic sports car compared to the old, rickety door stations on the rest of the Floor. "This is sure to impress at least some of those guys. Giving a demonstration to all the managers plus the big boss should be easy. If you can build this thing in only a few months, talking to the hierarchy will be a snap."

Randall frowned, deadpanned. "One of them banished me after I nearly murdered him."

"Well, you don't have to win 'em all over." Becca pointed out. The mild joke failed to lighten the mood. "Sorry. I was just trying to sound encouraging. If you're that nervous—"

"I am _not_ nervous!"

"Excuse me? Pacing around, pulling your fronds and making weird faces like you're in pain are classic signs that you're nervous, Randall. Don't lie." She argued. "How about I hover in the background? Then you could pretend you're just talking to me. That is, if you have any imagination at all."

"What? I don't think…" He was about to argue back, but reconsidered. That actually was a decent idea. Having her stick around would make the next hour much easier. "Actually…maybe that will help a bit. Will you stay?"

"That's what I said. Weren't you listening?" Becca teased. She put a hand on his shoulder, and could even sense how tense he was. "Relax. It'll be fine. You've helped me get through these last few months; even more then Naomi and Bernard. So I'll help you get through this. It's the least I can do."

Randall gave her one of his rare smiles, grateful for the support. Suddenly the tight twist in his stomach went away.

Sullivan and many managers from the Scare and Laugh Floors were supposed to attend the meeting, but there was no rule saying that Becca _wasn't_ allowed to be there. But just in case, she lingered further back to watch and listen. Mr. Sullivan was often seen in the factory hallways during the day. The CEO was quite cheerful and friendly, always mingling with others and trying to do his best to keep the place running smoothly. Becca knew he was a former scarer himself, but couldn't see how anyone would be intimidated by him. She didn't much care for the blue-furred monster; he was just a little bit too nice for her taste. But given the past rivalry between him and Randall, she didn't blame Randall for being nervous.

When the group arrived, she settled down to watch from the background.

There were about a dozen monsters, not including Sullivan, who stood very tall amongst them. To her disappointment, most of the managers appeared skeptical upon examining the new invention. A few whispered amongst themselves while nodding or shaking their heads. Becca wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

Randall gave the presentation with Jeffery Fungus helping out. The small bean-shaped monster operated the prototype station while Randall summarized to the audience how it all worked. At first he was hesitate, but grew more confident after a while. He explained every mechanic and of how they differed from the old stations to run more efficiently with not a single glitch. The improvements were so numerous that even Becca was charmed by all the work he had put into it. Some parts were a bit exaggerated; supposedly to make it sound as good as possible to earn favor. One Laugh Floor manager in particular asked a ton of brutal questions, which Randall stumbled to answer. When this happened, Becca waved subtly to Randall, silently reminding of the earlier advice to just relax. It helped a bit. Randall side-glanced towards her and answered further questions with better ease.

Sullivan did not even say a word until the hour was nearly up. By then, the demonstration was over, and opinions were being thrown at him by the posse of monsters. They were all talking at once, both positive and negative statements. In the background, where she was sitting on one of the paper-strewn desks, Becca shrugged at Randall, who made the same move. Both thought the same thing: it was hard to tell if it had gone well or not.

"This could be a major breakthrough, Sulley," a cat-like Scare manager said, her clipboard full of notes about the entire meeting. "But this is very big; if this whole endeavor fails, it could spell disaster!"

"You're all overreacting a bit, aren't you?" Sullivan said coolly. He turned to Randall. "It's a bit more over-the-top then I expected, Randall, but I'll admit this is good work."

"Of course it is. That's what I planned from the beginning," Randall said without thinking. Everyone in the group gave a shocked look. _Whoops. Wrong thing to say to a CEO at a time like this_. He instantly regretted, but went on. "So, any final thoughts?"

"Well…" Sullivan hesitated. "Give us a day or so to discuss it. After all, everyone has to be on the same page, and some of us—" he glanced at the more skeptical monsters. "—aren't. But it looks quite promising. Come up to the main office tomorrow afternoon and we'll let you know what happens next."

Randall did not show much emotion at the news. "Thanks. I'll be there." Finally. The hard part was over. Talking to an arch-rival and coming to an agreement was quite the achievement.

The group all starting talking at once to Sullivan. They were all-too eager to voice their fears and opinions. This was a project concocted by someone who had planned to help kidnap human kids for scream energy, for goodness' sake! But Sullivan calmed everyone down, saying they would discuss it in a group meeting before coming to a final decision.

It was only when Sullivan and the Scare and Laugh managers left the Floor, did Randall exhale in relief. Even Fungus, who had remained behind, was glad they were gone. "Whew! Am I glad that's over! I thought my heart would explode; it was beating so fast!" he exclaimed. "And a 'maybe' is better than a 'no,' right sir?"

"You can stop calling me that, you know." Randall said. Being called 'sir' all the time was really getting annoying.

Becca hopped off the desk she was sitting on. "Told you it would go alright. See? You were getting your fronds in a knot for nothing! All that's left to do is wait."

"Yeah…just waiting…" Randall replied with exhaustion. Suddenly, he was mentally tired from all this stressing out. Spending the evening with her, Bernard and Naomi sounded wonderful right about now. There was nothing to worry over in that great, big house. Randall almost chuckled. Bernard had been there all day, doing nothing but sitting on a couch, reading, relaxing, and having a most uneventful afternoon.

…

Randall was in far better spirits when he and Becca arrived at the mansion-sized home. Naomi was already there, covered in purple-berry pancake batter, but with every hair on her head still in place. She had had a tiring day, cooking up a storm, but was still happy and talkative.

The gang wanted to have an evening of take-out sushi—Becca's favorite—and just enjoy each other's company after their individually tiring days.

Nicholas, Lucy, and Penny were home, too, and joined in the meal. With take-out containers spread out on the dining table, and everyone seated around it, it felt very casual and homey, despite the Brennens' fancy taste in ornate furniture and high ceilings. Randall would have preferred eating in the garden outside like the gang usually did, but this was great, too. With Bernard fresh out of the hospital, moving around too much wasn't recommended, anyway. All through the meal, the monsters told stories, jokes, and laughed over all of them. It was the most fun Randall had had in weeks—no more stress, no rivals, no one judging him—just him and his friends. Everyone was being very supportive of Randall's ambitions, for which he was glad. At least _some_ monsters around here appreciated him.

Bernard was getting around by use of crutches or an over-sized wheelchair. By the time everyone had eaten their fill of sushi, he said he wanted to prop his bandaged stump up on the couch again. "I think those painkillers are wearing off." He winced in discomfort.

"You OK? Here, I'll help you to the living room," Nick started, overhearing from the kitchen and coming over to help his father up.

"It's alright; I can get there. You just go take Penny upstairs. She's been up for far too late already."

"Aw…" the little girl whined. But she didn't protest further and hugged Bernard goodnight. "Feel better soon, Grandpa."

"Oh, I will," But Bernard replied with an odd expression. As if he didn't really believe his own words.

Only Randall noticed this. So he wasn't imagining things; Bernard had been acting a bit weird all evening. It was nothing too concerning, but Randall was good at noting odd behavior. The way the older monster's eyes kept shifting around the room was a clear sign that he was tense. Something had clearly been on his mind all evening.

Nick carried Penny away while Lucy began clearing up dishes and take-out containers. This left the gang free to have more personal conversations in the living room without extra ears listening. Bernard grabbed the crutches and got there slowly—it was sure strange seeing him like this. The accident aftermath had left something new to get used to. The others all said nothing until he collapsed with a groan on the sofa.

"How're you holding up?" Naomi asked. "Do you have any of that phantom pain? Like, do you still _feel_ like your leg is there?"

"A bit. That should go away with time." Bernard winced. "All the drugs those doctors put me on are helping, apart from some nasty side effects. You won't believe what they are…"

Randall held his breath in trepidation. He didn't want to know what that statement implied. What kind of 'nasty side effects?' He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but began to discreetly scan the room for signs of that darn ghost, anyway…That argument with her in the locker rooms last week came rushing back.

"…and it's been like that all afternoon. I keep seeing things! Whenever I wasn't sleeping, that it is." Bernard summed up.

"Hm. I thought hallucinating is super-rare with this stuff," Naomi read the fine print on the medication bottle. "This doesn't even list it as a side-effect."

Becca was hogging the reclining armchair. She was still eating sushi out of a take-out container. "You should take it easy and call the doc if it keeps up, Bernard. Can't have you going crazy, now. What exactly have these hallucinations been? Anything scary?"

Randall immediately went tense on the inside while maintaining a calm exterior _. Oh please, don't answer that, Bernard. It won't be good._

But Bernard did. "Nothing extreme. Just weird shapes and shadows that shouldn't be there. Like patches of indoor fog, or—" Suddenly, he went stiff and sat up as straight as a statue. "…Suzie…"

The atmosphere went silent with those words. One could've heard a pin drop. Perhaps Bernard hadn't meant to say that, but the effect was immediate. The older monster was staring at something across the room, but only Randall knew what was going on. Without checking to see if the ghost was truly there, he fought not to cringe and kept quiet. The girls were both stalk-still in shock.

" _What_?" Becca frowned. She swallowed the sushi in her mouth and slowly put the container down on the table. She spoke dangerously. "That. Is not. Funny." She gripped the armchair's seat. "You think that's some kind of joke? Some kind of sick attempt at making me feel better?!"

Bernard snapped out of his stupor. "No! Becca, I—"

"Enough! I'm doing just _fine_. The funeral we had for her was all the closure I needed. You think I _want_ to imagine she's walking around, like nothing ever happened? I don't work like that, Bernard; you off all monsters should understand. Jokes like that are just—just— _cruel_! How dare you!" she stormed away, breathing heavily, towards the side door that led onto the patio. She was heard uttering exclamations of anger.

"Wait! Becca! That's not what I meant—"

"I don't want any excuses!" she slammed the glass door shut and stepped out into the dark evening air.

Bernard reached for his crutches at first, and then thought better. "Naomi, get that wheelchair. It'll be faster—"

"No, let me go talk to her. You just stay put. Look, I totally don't get what you're playing at," she reached for the sliding door. "But it's gotta be a misunderstanding, right?" The bothered look in Naomi's eyes plainly said she was upset by the moment as well.

Once she had left too, Bernard covered his face with both hands in guilt.

On the other hand, Randall was completely composed. He almost went after Becca as well, but this was just as big of a crisis. One that had to be cleared up; Bernard looked on the verge of some sort of breakdown. So with dread, Randall gazed around the room. Specifically at the spot in the corner where he was sure the older monster had been staring a minute ago…yep. There she was.

Suzie was here. The stone fireplace was a massive work of art that stretched a good fifteen feet wide and half-hid the girl from view. If a ghost even _could_ hide behind stonework that jutted out from a living room wall. She stood with both hands behind her back, leaning against the wall in shame. Her feelers even drooped to emphasize it.

 _Why_ now _of all times? It's always at the worst possible times_ …Randall sighed. He glanced from her, to the distressed Bernard, and back again. The girl shrugged. She couldn't do anything to help; she had already made things bad by popping in too early…some of her bruises had reappeared.

Randall almost faded away into the couch pattern at the prospect of explaining. But he gave it a shot. "uh…Bernard, take a look around the room."

"I am _not_ going crazy. It's only the meds I'm on." He refused to look up.

"OK, but do it anyway." Randall kept half an eye on Suzie to make sure she wouldn't go anywhere. She stayed where she was, braiding her feelers nervously.

Bernard pulled his hands away from his face with great reluctance.

Just as Randall suspected would happen, the older monster's eyes went wide in shock. His utter bewilderment was quickly growing into terror. He stared directly at the ghost, spirit, or whatever she was without a sound. He saw her clear as day. The girl did not smile in her usual cheerful manner—but she did give a tiny wave.

Randall tentatively asked, "Do you see anything? Anything at all?"

"…No…Why? Do you?"

Randall crossed his arms; he wasn't buying that. Lying wasn't one of Bernard's strengths. Neither of them was willing to admit what was going on. Distant ranting from Becca could be heard from outside; Naomi's voice, too, as she tried to calm her down. Randall tried to think fast. He whipped his head back and forth from Suzie to Bernard, unsure what to do.

 **Slight cliffhanger. :)**


	18. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Hello, followers! I have been on Mars for the last two months. JK.**

 **It's just been so busy in real life, that I didn't realize how much time had passed since my last update! But here it is, better late then never, Chapter 17! Picking up right where we left off, with Bernard suddenly able to see Ghost Suzie now. We've also got more of Randall's redemption and some subtle hints of future events. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Seventeen: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

This couldn't really be happening, could it? This was getting old, and it was downright annoying by now. Randall had hoped none of his friends would see the vision, too. Having his nephew know about it was bad enough. Seeing an image of Suzie, who'd been dead and gone for months, was a problem that even _he_ had trouble dealing with! And here was Bernard, staring straight at her.

Randall remained as collected as possible. As annoyed with Suzie as he was, he had to keep Bernard from panicking. The man was frozen in fear with wide eyes; it was very odd seeing him in such a state. But it surely wouldn't last long.

"Let's try that again," Randall insisted, still sitting with every arm crossed. He asked a second time, "Do you see anyone else here? Anyone at all?"

"…No." Bernard repeated. But he kept on staring without so much as a blink at Suzie.

The girl, meanwhile, only waved again. She shrugged at Randall; this meeting wasn't going the way she had hoped.

"Ugh. This conversation will only go in circles, you know. Just admit it, already." Randall took a deep breath. "I can see her, too."

"Huh?" Bernard snapped out of the stupor. "B—but…" His eyes darted back and forth from Randall sitting on the sofa, to Suzie standing by the fireplace…But she couldn't really be there, right?

"Gotta say, you're handling this better than I did. I'll have you know, she always just pops in whenever she feels like it." Randall turned to Suzie and demanded, "What's the big the big idea showing up _now_? Couldn't you have waited 'till later? Becca just about exploded and that was only when your name was spoken!"

To Bernard's astonishment, the image of Suzie shrugged an apology and replied. "So I timed it wrong. Sorry; it was an honest mistake."

"Well, your little mistake has just made things very complicated around here." Randall craned his neck to glance at the patio sliding door. It was ajar, and the distant sound of Becca's angry ranting was still going strong. Naomi's voice was there, too, trying to smooth out the situation. "She's overreacting, alright. Ugh…I should've expected a nightmare like this to happen…OK, listen up, Bernard, and listen well, 'cause I'm only going to say this once, OK?"

The older monster glanced back and forth from him to Suzie…this wasn't happening. There was no way this could be real. "B—but—How?" he managed to stammer. "How is this possible?"

"Don't ask me. I'm the one who's dead." Suzie said.

"You're not helping." Randall added. "Now get out of here before the others come back. And Bernard, just ignore her if she shows up again. Don't even look at her. And for goodness' sake, don't say _anything_ to her when others are around; even I slip up from time to time. If you mention her again, who knows how badly Becca will blow her top? You know what she's like."

"Uh…Yes, of course." Bernard managed to spit out. "I was just…so surprised…" he stared at the ghost. Or whatever she was…The girl certainly looked awful: bruises all over and dead-looking scales as if all the blood had drained out of her body. When she had turned her head to speak to Randall, a weird dent could be seen on the back of her skull. He hadn't gotten a close enough look, though. Maybe this was all just a hallucination. What side effects did those pain meds have, anyway? A light sheen of sweat began forming on his brow. "So…uh…"he tried to speak.

"It's good to talk to you again, too." The image spoke to fill the stunned silence. "After no one but Randall and Rex, I figure it's about time to talk to more of you guys. I'm so sorry about your leg, Bernard. It must've been awful; I didn't stick around when the accident happened. I got too scared to stay on the boat, so I waited until you were safe in the hospital. How are you holding up, now?"

Bernard shrank further back into the sofa when Suzie took a step closer. As terribly injured as she appeared, she looked solid and real…But she was dead. Right?...So what was he seeing?

"Nick is handling it pretty bad, isn't he?" she went on.

"Suzie, I think you should go." Randall cut in.

"Aw, but—"

" _Now_ , please? This really isn't a good time." He glanced at the patio door again. The voices of Becca and Naomi were dying down and he had a feeling they were bound to come back inside any minute.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for Becca to get so mad! Don't take it personally, Bernard. It was all my fault; I just timed it wrong, that's all."

"Will you go already?" Randall hissed. There was a bad situation here that he needed to address. And having a ghost hanging around wouldn't make it easier.

"OK, OK…" she sighed. Turning to Bernard—who had barely moved an inch this whole time—she said quite cheerfully, "I'll come back later, alright? There are so many things to catch up on."

"You'd better not do that. At least not until I can explain to him about you," Randall was seriously concerned about Bernard's state-of-mind. "I think you sent him into shock…"

The older monster couldn't explain what happened next. Randall and the hallucination exchanged a few more words, but he didn't hear what was being said. The sight was too terrifying to take in, let alone listen to. One moment, Suzie was standing there. No more than six feet away—and then she was gone. In the blink of an eye, the image had vanished without a trace. It was the most frightened he had ever been in his life. One hand went to his heart, for he hadn't realized how fast it was beating until now.

Randall wasn't sure what to do. He pulled on his fronds in frustration. "Whew…glad that's over. Look, I can explain—"

But the sight of Becca and Naomi returning prompted a bout of silence. _Great. This evening just keeps getting better and better_.

With Bernard still in mild shock, anything could go awry at this point. Becca stormed in and returned to the armchair. She seemed to have calmed down a bit, though she still had that old scowl, worn whenever she was cross. Randall noticed she wasn't making eye contact with anyone and sitting rather stiffly, fighting to keep her temper as always. "I'm sorry…" she managed. "Getting as angry as that wasn't on my agenda tonight."

Naomi sighed in relief, as did Randall.

"But pretending that Suzie is still here, Bernard? I don't care if those meds are making you see things, but even if they _are_ making you loopy, I don't want to be hearing about stuff like that. It's just too painful to think about. Are we clear?"

Bernard nodded regretfully. "Yes, we're clear…There's no excuse for what I said. Let's forget it ever happened."

The girls nodded in agreement. But Randall could tell Becca was upset by the incident. She remained stiff and her expression faltered between sad and furious—sad about being reminded of her sister, and furious with Bernard for bringing it up. Randall had a sudden urge to go over and put an arm around her for a bit of reassurance…but thought better of it. Becca wanted the evening to go on without further incident. So he stayed put.

Eventually things went back to the carefree environment from earlier. But all through the evening, Bernard had an odd look that only Randall noticed. The older monster kept glancing around the room, as if expecting something to jump out from around a corner. He also kept looking at him with a strange confusion and suspicion…the man clearly wanted to talk.

But an opportunity to explain about the ghost never came that evening.

Bernard waited and waited for a chance, but the group never split up after Becca's little temper tantrum. They tried to forget about it: chatting, and playing a ridiculous round of charades. Bernard couldn't focus, though. And since he couldn't walk at the moment, he couldn't pull Randall aside for a private word. All through the evening, he kept casting looks of confusion and suspicion towards the lizard. He was silently asking for an explanation of what had transpired…

It couldn't _really_ have been a ghost…that was impossible! The initial shock had worn off. Now he only wanted answers. But the evening was back to normal. It was full of games, without worries or stress. He didn't want to ruin it; it seemed his many questions would have to wait until tomorrow.

Needless to say, Bernard had a great deal of trouble sleeping that night. Seeing _Suzie_ of all monsters, showing up looking like that…he was legitimately afraid. Whatever had materialized in the living room had to have a logical explanation to it. Or maybe he had just hallucinated the entire thing? But if that was the case, how had _Randall_ been aware of it? Had he only imagined him respond to the vision, too? Whatever was going on, the lizard must know something.

…

The next morning was a crisp, early-autumn day. There was a nip in the air, courtesy of the changing season. But the gang decided to have lunch outdoors, anyway. After living in the wilderness for so long, they were quite used to a bit of cold air. Even the cold-blooded Randall didn't mind. Cold air just made him more lethargic than usual, but he put up with the chill without complaint.

The Brennens' park-like backyard was always a favorite spot. The trees, hedges and foliage made it seem wild and familiar, just like old times in the Human World. It was Saturday, so there was no need to feel rushed whatsoever. Some of the trees' leaves had begun to show traces of orange, gold and red. It was a very pleasant setting; a nice change from the tense atmosphere of last night. Today's lunch was spread out on a picnic blanket: fried spider-egg sandwiches and a tossed seafood salad.

"This isn't bad, Naomi," Randall complimented as he ate. He was perched on his usual low tree branch, with the others sitting on the grass. "Glad to see you're getting the hang of cooking."

"Thanks. It took a few tries to get it right, even after that last lesson. But I think I've got this one down." Naomi helped herself to another sandwich. "Bernard? You've hardly touched yours. Is it bad?"

He perked up. "Hm? Oh, it's great. I'm just a bit distracted, that's all." This was his first time outdoors since the amputation. He sat on a second blanket to be sure his bandaged stump didn't touch the grass. He had been gazing around the garden with an air of anticipation. He had also been pretty quiet this whole time, making Naomi worry.

"Is your leg acting up? We can head inside if need be—"

"No! I'm fine. Really; I was just daydreaming." Bernard lied terribly.

Becca and Naomi both summed up his weird behavior to the pain meds he was on. And mentally adjusting to a single leg had to be difficult. The accident had to have been rough on him. Plus, this was his first time outside in ages.

"Well, alright." said Becca. "But that lying skills really need work, Bernard. Face it; you're not very good at it."

The girls giggled at Bernard's defeated expression.

Randall didn't share the humor. He knew the real reason behind Bernard's distractedness: he was checking the area for ghosts. What else? _Damn it…I had hoped last evening was just another nightmare. I guess Suzie was serious about letting others see her._ What a problem this would be…she had always viewed Bernard as a surrogate father. Maybe that was why she had chosen him as the next monster to torment.

Geez, _what if Becca is next?_ Randall kept acting normally. But with disturbed thoughts running through his head, he only half-listened to his friends' conversation. He noticed Becca was smiling and in a good mood today…He would hate to see her go downhill again. _She won't recover from her grief if Bernard makes another slip-up. She's liable to go jumping off a roof again._

He noticed Bernard was sending him that same look of impatience. The guy clearly wanted to pull him aside and talk about Suzie. About what he had seen yesterday in the living room. _Sorry, Bernard. Can't talk about that now; not with Becca and Naomi here._ But the topic was just too important to avoid. So Randall gave a subtle nod at the older monster, who nodded back with relief. Good. They had an agreement to talk as soon as possible.

"This looks so nice! It really reminds me of our foraged meals back in the campsite." came another voice out of nowhere. "Naomi's finally found a constructive hobby that's actually useful! Who'd have ever imagined that?"

Randall suppressed a groan and didn't look in Suzie's direction. The girl had decided to appear on the adjacent tree branch. He glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye. Great. Another 'blink-into-sight-at-the-worst-possible-moment' moment. _Why_ was she doing this? Did she think it was _funny_?

"Hi, Bernard! Don't say a word, OK? I don't want Becca to get all mad and stuff." She waved and smiled as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Bernard was in the middle of biting a sandwich—his angler-fish teeth visibly quivered with his shaking jaw. His hands shook, too, in utter surprise and fear. His eyes went wide again with shock and surprise…but he did not make a sound. The whole thing was too terrible to even scream at. Suzie was dead…so what was he seeing there on the branch?

The others hadn't noticed him freeze. Naomi's birthday was coming up soon, and she was busy telling of possible plans like going to the biggest mall in Monstropolis for a shopping spree. Becca, with zero interest in such things, was trying to suggest other fun places they could all enjoy. Randall thought fast before questions about Bernard's behavior could arise. When the older monster looked up at him with alarm, he maintained a serious frown. It was a warning not to say anything. He shook his head once, but not too obviously should the others notice. Having a repeat of yesterday wouldn't be a good idea. _Please don't say Suzie's name again…please don't, please don't, please don't…_

And the silent warning worked. Bernard finished the bite of sandwich. He swallowed, nodded once, and didn't say a word.

Randall exhaled in relief.

"Sorry for dropping in like this, guys." Suzie said to both of them, still eyeing the food. "But this looks like a good spread. Wish I could have some…it's been months since I last ate, you know."

Bernard, greatly disturbed, did not respond. The conversation about Naomi's upcoming birthday was slowly turning into an argument which Randall began to diffuse. Bernard was the usual mediator in situations like this, but he couldn't think straight right now. It was a fight to try and act normal when there was a full-bodied, talking vision right there in the tree! So he followed Randall's lead and did not even look at her. Now Randall _really_ had to explain. A private talk couldn't come soon enough.

A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, all of them afraid and confused. Was he going crazy? Was this some elaborate prank orchestrated by Randall? No…he was reformed, now, and would never do a thing like that. In a strange way, Bernard found the sight of Suzie in the tree very emotional. There she was…injured and bruised with a huge break in her skull…but the sight of her joining the group for lunch was incredible. All five of them were together again…Bernard only wished it was under different circumstances.

Explaining about the meddling apparition was by far the weirdest conversation Randall had ever had.

A little later, when the picnic lunch was over, he offered to help Bernard back up to the house. The slope of the hill made it easy for Bernard to fall over when using the crutches. So Randall stayed nearby to help steady him should need be. Becca and Naomi were busy packing up the blankets and leftovers; this was the soonest opportunity to talk in private.

The ghost had wisely left, blinking out of sight as usual. Bernard fought not to gasp in horror when that happened. As he slowly moved across the grass, swinging between crutches on one leg, he shot a few whispered rapid-fire questions at Randall. He just _had_ to know what was going on!

So Randall begrudgingly told. In brief, though. With the others due to catch up within minutes, there wasn't much time to talk.

"So this is…normal?" Bernard finally said when they reached the house.

"If one can call it normal." Randall leaned the crutches on a wall as Bernard sat down on a kitchen chair. "I don't know how, but it's been going on for months, her hanging around like this."

Bernard was dumbfounded. "And you haven't told us?"

"Of course not! Would you have believed me? And anyway, with Becca so touchy about the whole thing, it would've been a disaster even if I _had_ said something."

Bernard checked around the room. He expected Suzie to be there waiting for them, it seemed.

Randall firmly reassured, "Don't bother looking. She'll just show up whenever she feels like it."

The news drained all the color from Bernard's face. Being haunted by one of their friends…what a terrible thought.

"So if you see her, and there are others around, just _try_ and ignore her, OK? I've slipped up a few times and it's getting hard coming up with good excuses."

"B—But…Why?" Bernard leaned forward, speaking very quietly. "I mean—if that thing really was Suzie… _why_ is she here?"

"Dunno." Randall shrugged. "Not even _she_ knows." _Personally, I still think it's got something to do with Becca's well-being, but I'll keep that theory to myself for now._ "My nephew is the only one besides us who knows about her, so let's keep it that way, got it? We'll talk more later."

Through the glass patio door, he could see Becca and Naomi approaching, carrying the picnic blankets and a few unfinished plates. Bernard was left with even more questions now, but any more ghost talk would have to wait. He still had a fearful look in his eyes. It seemed as if he was going to faint any moment. That wasn't really a surprise, given all the recent shocks. But he tried to act normal and nodded to Randall in promise. He wouldn't breathe a word of the ghost to another soul.

…

Bernard still had a little ways to go until his stump fully healed. He was still housebound for now, so he was on his own for the moment. As anxious as Randall was about the whole ghost problem, there were other things to think about. It was a new day, and today was a huge turning point for him: Sullivan had called a meeting regarding the upgraded door station design. And apparently there were to be some monsters from the CDA there as well. Randall sure hoped this was good news…he had enough trials to contend with already.

Since Samuel's counselling room was on the same floor as the factory's offices, the elder Boggs brother was sort of aware of what was going on. There was _something_ big happening over in the head office, but he wasn't sure what. Between counselling appointments, he kept peeking out into the hall to try and learn more. There were many monsters in ties gathering out there, carrying laptops and other devices to take notes or recordings of the meeting.

When Sam glimpsed his brother and Jeffery Fungus going in, too, there was no doubt in his mind: either Randall and Fungus were in big trouble, or exactly the opposite. James Sullivan was at the office's double-doors to welcome the many guests. The big blue-furred monster noticed Sam's head peeking out from the counselling room and waved 'hello.' Still in the dark, Sam only waved back as the double doors swung shut.

Sam was eager to know what was going on. It was a good two hours until the big meeting ended and monsters began congregating the office halls once again. The moment he could, Sam went invisible to snake between them and catch up to his brother unseen.

Randall and Fungus had hurried ahead of the small crowd and gone down in the elevator already. Sam had to run down a few flights of stairs and scurry down a carpeted corridor just to catch up. "So what did he want?" he said, grabbing Randall's shoulder.

"Gah! Don't do that!" Randall flinched in surprise. So that was what it was like, having someone sneak up on you, invisible. "Geez, have you been spying? What kind of shrink are you?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. It's not very often Sulley hosts big meetings. It must be really good news, or really bad news for that many to attend. I counted at least twenty going in there." Sam said with excitement. "So? Was it about the new station you designed? With your reputation still a bit on the rocks, it could've gone either way."

But Fungus answered instead. "Oh, it was great! Sullivan told a bunch of monsters from the CDA all about it; the super high-profile ones, you know? He was so impressed by the demonstration of the station that he wants some other colleagues to see it. From what he told us, it could start going into production! Provided it's approved by the board and all," Fungus began pacing in circles, still going on with making plans. "There were a few hiccups at the last demo to smooth over, Randall. I think one of the wires wasn't fully connected, 'cause it went haywire when I activated a switch or something…"

Sam noted to Randall in observation, "He talks far too much."

Randall shrugged. That was true, and somewhat annoying, but he was used to it by now. "Long story short: Sullivan wants us to prepare another demonstration for a bunch of CDA head agents. That's basically it."

"Really? Wow, that's great!" But Randall didn't seem as excited. Sam would've thought his brother would be more thrilled, so he tried to get to the bottom of it. He went on, "Then all that hard work paid off, didn't it?"

"I suppose."

"'You suppose?' C'mon, Randy, show a little more enthusiasm! This is what you've been wanting for ages: proving everybody wrong; that anyone can change for the better. A lot of monsters in the factory are talking; with that prototype set up on Scare Floor A, everyone has seen it by now." When his brother's expression remained stoic, Sam concluded that Randall was still a bit doubtful that all would go smoothly. As they strolled down the hall, still following the blathering Fungus, Sam put an arm of reassurance around his brother's shoulder and encouraged. "That thing you built looks pretty cool."

"'Cool?' _Efficient_ was what I was going for."

"Sorry. I never saw the demonstration you and Fungus gave for the managers, but I heard from Becca that it went well." Sam had a sudden thought. "I'm gonna call Dad to tell him about this."

"Ugh…please don't." Randall maneuvered out of Sam's grasp.

"Hey, he'll figure it out either way; might as well tell him now and get it over with. He really put you down last time he visited and you two haven't spoken since." Sam reminded. "Maybe this'll be something that'll impress him."

Randall looked up. That was different. Earning their father's respect had always been high on his priority list. But it was so difficult that the task seemed nearly impossible. "Well…OK, you can tell him. Just don't go and exaggerate anything." The last thing he wanted was to live up to lies. That sort of thing was behind him now, and he was turning over a new leaf thanks to this engineering project. He didn't want all the progress to go downhill.

…

"The head hauncho really said that?" commented Becca after hearing of all that had happened. She and Randall were strolling towards the foyer, both on their way to their respective destinations. "Look at you, getting in with the big leagues, now! At this rate, you'll be famous in no time, Randy."

"Fame and glory are not what I was going for, really." He corrected with full honesty. "That's what the old me would've done. This whole project is all about improving this factory—" He paused upon seeing a group of laughers walk by. They were doing a team effort of carrying a giant, pie-spinning apparatus, and all of them were wearing stupid clown wigs. Randall cocked a brow in question as he finished his sentence. "—which is getting weirder every day."

Becca nodded in agreement as the clownish group went by. "Yep. I'm glad I only work with the scarers. Though I am impressed by how much power the laugher can generate. If you think about it, it must be a lot harder to make kids laugh then scream. Wazowski must have a lot of skill for his numbers to be so high." She admitted. "Anyway, now that word of your project has been out for a while, I'm hearing less of those rotten rumors."

Randall sighed. "Finally. It's about time they cut it out." They passed a lot of other foot traffic in the halls as the foyer drew closer. Was he imagining it, or were they not using those old, distrusting stares? A few even nodded in greeting. Randall couldn't be sure, though…It had been so long since he had been seen in positive light that it was almost alien.

Becca sensed what he was thinking. "You're doing a good job."

"At what?"

"Just…being back in a place like this." She gestured at the entirety of their surroundings, trying to put her thoughts into words. "You're trying so hard to fix things. Make them better, you know? With the whole project, and with Suzie being gone…" She trailed off for a moment, but recovered fast. "Hell, even your entire reputation is changing!" Leaning in closer, she said softly, "Don't tell anyone, but I get the feeling no one around here likes me very much."

"Maybe if you fixed that attitude of yours and quit picking fights—"

"Hey, my attitude is just like yours! I just happen to be a lot bossier." Becca protested. "And I'd rather pick an argument with you than anyone else. Only because you're fun and argue back."

"And sometimes I win." He grinned with a tease as she playfully shoved him.

The moment of fun was broken, however, when Becca checked the giant digital clock on the foyer wall. "Geez, I'm late for that class; there's a brand new group of newbies arriving today. I've got advice to firmly plant in their brains that they'll never forget. I'll see you later, Randall." Then, without warning, she gave him a hug. "Congrats on the news again! It's such a relief that things are going well for a change."

He hugged her back on reflex with one arm. This was new…it was more of a congratulatory hug then anything, but still, Becca being joyful in her own way was very refreshing. The scent of her dreadlock-like feelers was kind of like saltwater; he'd never noticed that before.

They broke apart just as quickly. Becca looked slightly embarrassed at her sudden emotion, and had been enjoying their talk so much that she'd forgotten about all the foot traffic around here. Randall made a casual rescue for both of them. "See you later, then. Just don't make those rookies so afraid of you that they can't even speak."

"Can't promise that." She shrugged and headed down another hallway towards the training rooms. Randall left the foyer, too, to fetch a tool kit and hardhat. There were some more menial fix-it jobs to do today; might as well get started on them.

Unbeknownst to either, there was an invisible monster watching them from very close by. The little boy had been eavesdropping with interest and whipped his head back and forth from Miss Becca to Uncle Randy, debating which one to follow. They were heading in opposite directions! Who to follow, who to follow…? He decided on his uncle and scurried on all eights to catch up unseen.

…

Working down in the boiler room was never a favorite chore for any of the maintenance crew. It was very warm down here, full of ominous creaking from the machinery as if something would explode at any moment. The lights often flickered of their own accord, making it hard to see at times. But Randall didn't mind. It was devoid of monsters down here; a good place to go when he wanted a few minutes alone. Also, with the chill of early autumn outdoors, the warmth of the boiler room was welcome.

He got to work fixing the broken glass covers on some pressure gauges, taking off his hardhat to let the humid air revitalize him. His energy levels immediately began to rise. "Ahh…that's more like it. I outta spend more time down here when winter comes."

Feeling better, he pondered random thoughts as he worked. _Suzie hasn't shown up in a while; maybe she's busy tormenting Bernard…I hope the guy isn't having a nervous breakdown. He really didn't handle it well this weekend…_ A part of him was worried that Naomi or Becca were next. But maybe Suzie would move on. The only thing he could do was keep his fingers crossed that she wouldn't do anything else to compromise their friends' emotions. They were all still coming to terms with her death…seeing a vision of her walking and talking would not be good for morale.

The pipes made a sudden hiss with steam. The machine Randall was fixing was already switched off, but the sound made him jump and blend to a matching copper. He shook it off and went back to his task, working on the broken gauge. His mind wandered to that hug Becca had given him in the corridor. She only displayed affection like that when she was very happy, or else when it was just him and the gang. It had been kind of nice…and a sure sign that her emotional well-being was improving. Randall only wished there was more he could do to help.

"BOO!" yelled a kid's voice.

Randall disappeared on reflex. His tool vest was left hanging in mid-air, looking ridiculous. Rex laughed at the sight before his uncle reappeared with a frown. "Really? _This_ again?"

"Yeah! It's fun!" Rex clapped. He admired the neat boiler tanks, pipes, and machinery. He had never sneaked down here into the bowels of the factory before. "Wow, this place is neat. Where do all these pipes lead?"

"This isn't an ideal place for kids. Especially ones who keep sneaking around like you do." Randall picked his nephew up and plopped him on an old wooden crate. All of these daycare escapes had to stop. "Just sit there until I'm finished. Then I'm taking you back upstairs and telling Sam all about your little adventure."

"Aw…just when it was getting exciting." Rex whined. He pouted, and looked around the area with interest, listening to the sound of steam rushing through the pipes. "They must lead all over the factory. Intriguing."

Randall was impressed by the four-year-old's vocabulary. "You sure know a lot of big words, Squirt."

"Uh huh. Dad teaches me lots of new words; no bad words, though. He wants me to be smart like him, and you and Grandpa. Sometimes, the other kids in the daycare don't even know what I'm talking about!" Rex bragged with pride. After watching his uncle work for a while, he moved on to another subject. "Miss Suzie came to visit me early this morning. She told me a joke. Wanna hear it?"

"No." Randall said, deadpanned.

"Too bad: 'It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope. It'll still be stationary.'"

Randall groaned. Even when Suzie was gone, she still kept up those corny one-liners. Rex seemed to find them hilarious, though. When the kid was done giggling, he went on, "She also told me about what happened at Mr. Bernard's house. Is it true? Can he see her too?" The sight if his uncle's reaction told Rex all he needed to know. "Why are you so worried about it, Uncle Randy?"

"It's Becca I'm most worried about…All this haunting has got to stop! What if Suzie decides to talk to her sister? If hanging around and talking to more friends will make Suzie happy, that's great. But there's no telling what that'll do to Becca physiologically." Randall leaned an elbow against the boiler tank to rest his head. The thought was already giving him a migraine. "All those counselling sessions with Sam have really been helping; it'd be a shame for them to all be for naught."

Rex bit his lip, truly sympathizing with Randall now that the whole story was revealed. "It'll be OK. Miss Suzie told me she wouldn't do anything crazy."

"Why don't I believe that?" Randall rolled his eyes and finished replacing the glass gauges with a final screw.

While he gathered up some tools, the boy made an astute observation. "You really care about Miss Becca, don't you?"

"Of course I do. She's one of the first real friends I've ever had. What kind of question is that?"

Rex shrugged. "Nothin.' I just saw you guys in the hall, that's all…" He explained of 'overhearing' their conversation and had even witnessed that hug. Seeing his serious uncle and the no-nonsense Becca being nice to each other was a good change.

"That was nothing!" Randall defended. "It was just a friendly hug. I got some good news about my invention and she was happy for me. Don't make any weird assumptions."

"'Kay. Sorry, Uncle Randy." Rex regretted ever bringing it up. He waited until his uncle was finished gathering up the tools before jumping to all four feet with a new excitement. "Can I ride up on your shoulders?"

"No. C'mon, let's get going," he took Rex by a hand a led him towards the staircase, exasperated to his limit. "I still want you to keep the ghost a secret, OK? Even if Bernard can see her, too, it's still not a good idea to go around bragging about it. So don't mention it. Or anything else you've spied on today, for that matter."

"Sure! You can count on me to keep secrets!" Then, the boy had an afterthought. "But only if I can ride on your shoulders."

It may have been a bluff. Randall regarded his nephew for a moment, but the kid didn't seem to be bluffing. So he sighed and relented. "…Fine." He knelt down and the kid scrambled up with glee, pushed some fronds aside and held on as Randall rose to his feet again. He carried Rex up the stairs with plans to take a less-travelled route back to the factory's daycare. If anyone saw him going soft like this, he'd never hear the end of it. _Giving piggy-backs rides to my nephew. Humph…The things I do to keep the peace around here._

…

The talk with his nephew played over in his head a few times for the rest of the day. As Randall went around the factory, doing all sorts of maintenance work, he did his best to forget such a ridiculous notion. _Really…the things that kid comes up with_ …later on that week, he even forgot all about it. With the day of the big board presentation coming up so soon, there were other things to occupy his time.

The group of monsters from the CDA numbered in the several dozen…much more intimidating then last time with Sullivan and his group of followers. But Randall and Fungus were prepared and ready. The set-up on Scare Floor A hasn't been used since the last demonstration and they quickly met there to brush up any mechanical hiccups, just in case something went wrong. The Floor had been reserved specifically for this event; no one else was around, but that wouldn't last for long. There wasn't much time to prepare.

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…" Fungus stammered nervously. He kept glancing at the Floor entrance to check for any official-looking monsters. A meeting as important as this was almost more than he could handle. "Is it just me or do the walls seem to be closing in?"

"Quit pacing, get over here and help me," Randall ordered while adjusting the prototype's controls. Some of the wires needed some fine-tuning, and the task would go by faster with some assistance. "This is too important to be nervous about, Fungus. It'll be just like the first demo; let me do the talking and we'll both walk out of this alive."

Perhaps that wasn't quite the right thing to say. Fungus' nerves were definitely shot and he was shaking like a leaf. Randall rolled his eyes at his friend's over-reacting. This would be no different than last time…there was just a lot more pressure involved.

Despite Fungus' obvious fear, the demonstration of the prototype went well. The five dozen CDA agents asked many more questions about it during the meeting. A lot of them seemed to like the sleek, silver chrome design and its fast-working components. There was one hiccup involving the hydraulic clamp when a door was summoned from the vault—it got stuck for a moment as it rose into the air, which caused a few opinionated whispers. That made Randall worry, but he got the meeting back on track. He explained about every piece of the machinery, how it worked, what materials were used, that sort of thing. When questions were asked, he tried to answer as truthfully as possible, without pausing to think. He had to show these guys that he was darn serious about this project. That it would be a good thing to have around here, should more of them be built.

Sullivan was here with a few other managers, too, standing in the background and watching like a stupid blue vulture. But they weren't saying much. Randall assumed they were only here to observe and spread word about this meeting when it was over. He found himself wishing Becca was here…her silent presence was far more relaxing.

When the ordeal finally was over, it felt like he had finished a school presentation. Being scrutinized like this was sure terrifying, but he kept his cool and stayed sane through the entire thing. The group of yellow-clad monsters did not dismiss him as he expected. Instead, the head of the group asked him to remain for a quick word regarding all of his hard work…

…

"Well, how did it go?" Becca asked when Randall and Fungus came off Scare Floor A. She had been waiting out here for the longest time. She glanced over at the far end of the room, at the big group of CDA agents and the few factory managers with them. Mr. Sullivan was there, too, and everyone was looking more or less pleased. "What are these bigshots like, anyway? Are they up for new ideas or are they just a couple of old, stuffed shirts?"

Fungus seemed relieved that the big demo was over and leaned against a wall to wait for his nerves to calm down. Randall did not answer at first; he just gave one of his old, self-important smirks towards Becca as a way of answer. "The station design is going into production." He told her. "The board was very impressed and they want the whole factory outfitted by the new year."

"You're kidding!" Becca punched the sky as if winning a race. Unexpectedly, she put an arm around his neck in a half-hug, which he returned on reflex. "That's great! Finally, all of those countless hours of work amounted to something. Oh, and you, too, Fungus. Without your help, none of it would have been possible—"

"Don't mention it." Fungus wiped some sweat off his brow, still recovering from the nerve-wracking, high-ranking-monster-filled room.

Becca realized he was giving them odd looks. She immediately let go of Randall's neck to compose herself and he took a step back to do the same. They weren't about to let their tough reputations slide. Even if they were both very happy right now and almost didn't care at the moment. Almost.

"C'mon, let's go…" Becca said, acting completely normal once again to end the awkward situation. "I'm sure Bernard could use something interesting to hear about after being cooped up at home this whole time."

"Good idea." They bid Fungus goodbye and Randall quickly followed her down the hallway. _I just hope Bernard hasn't been seeing things…like ghost girls who shouldn't be there._

…

Both Naomi and Bernard were glad at the news. At last, everyone in their little gang was turning their lives around! It was such a good feeling. Even with the loss of his leg, Bernard was content at how things were going. But he had yet to mention the vision of Suzie. In the following days, when Randall pulled him aside to try and get a private word in, the older monster avoided the subject of ghosts and visions. Bernard was still quite bothered by it all…he simply _couldn't_ admit that he was being haunted.

It was frustrating…Randall _knew_ Suzie was popping up everywhere around the big mansions of a house. It was the only explanation why she hadn't been at the Boggs' house! So he simply decided to wait. Wait until Bernard was ready to accept Suzie's presence. No matter how bizarre the circumstances were.

Naomi and Becca seemed to notice the older monster's edgy behavior. He was jumpy, distracted, and not entirely focused during conversations. It had been going on all week. He also seemed unusually moody, too. They thought it was all due to the boating accident that had taken his leg and his mental recovery from it. But only Randall knew the truth. There was a sickening feeling that more questions about the ghost were going to be asked. Ones that would be hard to answer.

But Bernard still said nothing. Even three days after the board presentation, not a single word had been spoken of Suzie. Randall's fears were put aside, for now. On this day, a new dread was about to rise, anyway…

Naomi dropped by the factory to join him and Becca for lunch. Although she did not work for any power industry anymore, she strolled into the cafeteria anyway. She waved to any monsters who caught her eye, socializing like she owned the place. She was a very attractive monster, so of course many heads had turned when she arrived. The cafeteria was being its normal, noisy self. No food fights had broken out yet, thank goodness. (Though it was certainly tempting with the questionable slimy green-and-purple salad that was being served.)

Randall, Becca and Naomi sat at a corner table by a window where it was quieter. All were eating homemade grilled sandwiches, sent by way of Bernard. Apparently he was incredibly bored of staying at home. "…so the poor guy's been trying anything and everything to keep busy." Naomi explained. "It's like, _totally_ a major case of cabin fever!"

Becca mimicked Naomi's high-school way of talking. "Well, he's only got, like, _one_ more day to go. I sooo have a major question, though. Are you, like, totally allowed to be in here, Naomi?"

"Ha ha. That's real funny." She said with sarcasm. "The receptionist didn't even blink when I came in; not even her snake-hair noticed. I know I don't work here, but nobody's kicked me out yet, have they?"

"Not yet. But they oh so totally will." Becca continued mocking. "Like, OMG, what a scene that would be."

"Cut it out! Randall, back me up here."

But he only laughed along with Becca. "I'm not taking sides in this one. It's too priceless."

This was great, having extra company for lunch. After the recent stress, he finally felt calm today. Conversation was far more enjoyable with more monsters to talk to. It made him wish he had had more friends in the past…Ever since coming back from the Human World, his friendships within the group of ex-banished survivors had only grown stronger. He vowed to keep it that way.

While the girls went on competing in doing impressions of each other, he chowed down on the tasty grilled sandwich. Watching the contest was quite the lunchtime entertainment. Until he got the sudden, inexplicable feeling that he was being watched…The feeling was like pins and needles. He was no stranger to this. _Great. Not again…_ he subtly eyeballed the room for signs of the ghost. She was nowhere in sight, but the feeling remained. _Alright, Suzie, where are you?_

Suddenly, a small orange monster materialized into view out of nowhere, making them all jump. "HI!"

"Oh, it's only you," Randall resumed eating calmly while the girls looked as if they had were about to have heart-attacks. "I had a feeling someone was around. Haven't you already escaped that daycare enough times this week? I'm surprised those ladies haven't banned you from even coming into the factory."

"Yeah, me too. But they should be used to it by now. No daycare walls are gonna hold me! I'd rather explore out here, anyway." Rex joined them at the table, sitting right next to his uncle, across from the others.

Becca chuckled. "This kid really takes after you, Randall. He's a sneaky one."

'Thanks!" Rex took it as a compliment. He then turned to his uncle, all important-like. "Hey, Dad just told me something real neat this morning. You left the house too early and missed it! So I came to find you and tell you!"

"Well, the sooner you tell, the sooner you can go back to where you're supposed to be right now." Randall didn't really care at the moment; his nephew's daily trouble-making and wandering off were interrupting his lunch hour.

Rex braved himself to deliver whatever he came to say. It really must be important; whatever _was_ important to four-year-olds, anyway. "Grandpa invited us up to the country! To visit the observatory!" He clapped all four hands. "Remember last time he was here and said he found a thingy out in space to study? It's a new comet! And he wants us to come out to the country to see it through the giant telescope!"

Randall said with a blank stare, "Who's 'us?'"

"You, me, and Dad."

"It's true," Came another voice. Sam had arrived in search of the boy, looking exhausted at the routine task of tracking him down. "That new star he mentioned, Randall? It really did turn out to be a comet. Apparently he and all the other scientists at the observatory had a big party to celebrate."

Naomi looked impressed. "Sounds pretty cool! Does it have like, a name or anything?"

"Not yet. My father thought of leaving that honor for him." Sam pointed at Randall, who sat up straighter with surprise. "Dad heard about the news of your engineering project, Randall. He tried to play it cool on the phone this morning, but I could tell he's proud of what you're doing. So he's invited us out to visit; hopefully to make up for last time you two saw each other."

Randall groaned at the memory of their father's time in the city, not too long ago. "Yeah, that didn't go so well."

Becca sensed the dread. "You should go. How many monsters get to be the first to see a new comet? Much less name one?"

"Oh! You're both welcome to come, if you like," said Sam. "Bernard, too, if he's up to it. With the long weekend coming up, Dad figures the timing is just right, and he's got plenty of room at his place…"

While his brother went on with the girls listening with rapt attention, Randall's head quickly became full of apprehension. A whole weekend at his childhood home with his father. _Humph…what a terrible idea._

Zachariah lived in close proximity to the Nosferatu Institute of Astronomy, the observatory a few hours' drive out of Monstropolis. It was far away from city lights and nestled in a wooded, hilly area full of trees and nature parks. There was even a little town nearby. The place was a quiet neighborhood and sure to be a peaceful getaway. But Randall still didn't want to go. His father was so hard-to-please…their strained relationship had been going on since Randall's college days. What if during this visit his father only put him down again?

 _He may not._ His conscience spoke. _Just because the last get-together with Dad didn't go so well, doesn't mean the next one will._

 _I suppose_ …Randall remembered his brother's words. _Sam just said that Dad was impressed with what I'm doing, and my brother is no liar._

 _Exactly. And if Bernard and the girls come along, it wouldn't be so bad, right?_

That was also true. With a slightly lifted heart, he looked across the table to wait for Becca and Naomi's verdict about the idea

"I'm down for a weekend out of the city," Becca decided, after Sam finished telling of the neighborhood. "Small towns aren't really my thing, but if Zach's place is out in the woods, it sounds like fun. What do you think?" She asked Randall. "You grew up there, right, Genius? Give us a tour and I promise not to spill any embarrassing childhood stories."

He tried to frown, but it came out as more of an amused smirk. There wasn't a chance of that happening. He rested his head on one elbow, still not entirely convinced.

"Be a sport, here." Naomi tried. "It'll be like camping, only with an actual solid roof. And it's my birthday this weekend; I wanna do something fun. _And_ we can help think up a name for a new comet. How many monsters can say they've done that?"

"Ugh…alright. I'll go. But only if you two are coming, at least. We'll have to ask Bernard if he's up for the drive." _Poor guy. He sure could use a getaway. On top of losing a leg, he's got a ghost hanging around. He's going to crack any day if she keeps it up._

The group hastily made a few plans for the weekend; details would be sorted out later, for the lunch hour was almost up and Sam needed to get back to the factory's upper floors. But not before taking Rex back to the daycare. (Again.) The boy whined, but didn't struggle as his father carried him away, looking over to wave goodbye to the group sitting at the cafeteria table.

"Your father's title is an 'astrophysicist', right, Randall?" Naomi asked, pronouncing the word slowly so as not to make a mistake. "He sounds like a total nerd, but a brilliant nerd."

"Don't rub it in."

"Hey, it's not like you'll be hanging out with your dad the whole time." Becca pointed out. "Let's just focus on having a good weekend, alright? We'll all be there to bug you, too."

They all chuckled at the comment and finished their lunches. When Randall was about to stand up from the table, an unexpected sight made him want to sit back down again…Suzie had blinked into view without warning. Her presence came so suddenly that he nearly fell off the bench.

She was right across the table, squashed in the spot right next to Becca. Randall hated it when she did this; seeing the sisters side-by-side only emphasized the fact that Becca had no family left. It was also a reminder of how he hadn't been able to save her.

"Hey." She greeted quietly. Suzie didn't seem her cheerful self at the moment; she stared at Randall with a serious look in her dead eyes. "I'm coming, too."

He couldn't very well respond with the others sitting here. So he tilted his head as a way of questioning. She was looking very scared…

"I've got that weird feeling again, Randy…The premonition, remember?...Just like with Becca on the rooftop…" she went on with great fear, "Don't look at me like that! Don't ask me how I know! Maybe it has something to do with me being _dead_!" Suzie frowned. She turned to Becca, who had no inkling that she was even there. The older sister was happy, talking to Naomi about the upcoming trip, while the younger sister could only wring her hands anxiously. Suzie turned back to Randall in warning. "Something bad is going to happen very soon, Randall. I don't know what it is, but you should keep an eye on my sister, OK?"

He managed to nod ever so slightly. Suzie's warnings had come in handy last time…he wasn't going to ignore them.

 **More ghost warnings! Yikes! Whatever's gonna happen next? This tale is going to end up being the same length as my first Monsters story, since I've done some revising. Stay tuned for more! :)**


	19. Stargazing

**OMG I finally, FINALLY got this posted! Such a busy life with my new job and everything. Anyway, here you go! Chapter 18 is (finally) here, with lots of heart. We have Randall making peace with his father, and Bernard in total denial about being able to see Ghost Suzie, who is showing up everywhere, now, along with plenty of other drama. :) This was lots of fun to write, despite it taking forever. Hope it was worth the wait!**

Chapter Eighteen: Stargazing

"Some long weekend this is going to be…" Randall complained to Fungus on the final work day that week. They were in the workshop, going over blueprints of the station design. But Randall couldn't focus, despite the task's importance. So he kept on venting his thoughts aloud to make himself feel better. "An entire _four days_ cooped up in a house with my father. Even if the gang is coming too, it's gonna be hell."

"So why are you going?" Fungus asked. He himself had met Dr. Boggs once; the man was brilliant, if a bit egotistical. (Not unlike Randall and Samuel.)

"Well, Naomi's birthday is this weekend and she really wants to go. She's all excited to see the observatory and the comet Dad discovered. Plus, the place is way out in the country and a good spot for stargazing, which Bernard and Becca both want to do that. Not to mention my nephew and brother." Randall realized those plans sort of made up for everything. But that didn't mean he had to enjoy the prospect of being under the same roof as his father. "I haven't backed out because I'm just trying to be _nice_ , believe it or not. With everyone looking forward to the trip, I don't want to ruin anything."

He laid every blueprint out on the workshop's tables. There were dozens in total…now that the design had been approved and was soon to be in production, he was almost hesitant to leave the city. It may be a long weekend, but what if Sullivan or one of the blue buffoon's cronies contacted him about the project? This endeavor was far too important to mess up, especially now that a major hurdle had been jumped.

Randall sighed. "OK, Fungus, just in case Sullivan or anyone from the CDA has questions about all this, I trust you to answer them. You're familiar with the designs; more so then anyone else, so don't screw it up, got it?"

"No problem!" Fungus said. Then clarified after Randall's stern glare. "Uh—I meant there's no problem trusting me not to screw it up, sir."

"Good. Call my father's place if anything happens. I've come too far for this project to go haywire." Randall gathered up the extra set of blueprints to deliver to Sullivan. Then he suddenly remembered. "Oh! But if my nephew answers the phone, hang up. The kid's been extra sneaky lately. Who knows what kind of trouble he'll start next?"

As they left the workshop, Fungus started blathering on about all the pressure he was under—on top of managing a Laugh Floor, he was mixed up in a giant renovation of the factory! "…maybe it won't work. I mean, you saw how many of those CDA agents were there. What if they change their minds about this at the last minute?"

"You worry far too much." Randall dismissed. "We've gone over every little micro-detail of the prototype and nothing will—" he paused for a moment upon seeing Suzie blink into sight, right in the middle of the pipe-lined passageway. He finished his sentence so as not to sound weird. "—go wrong."

"I sure hope so." Fungus was walking ahead, moving straight towards the vision standing in the hall. He made no sign of seeing her, whatsoever. "All this stress is making my head spin…"

The small red monster kept on babbling distractedly. Randall witnessed her side-step out of Fungus' path. It just occurred to him: could the vision walk _through_ objects or living monsters? He had never witnessed her do so. As he himself went down the echoing hall, Suzie joined him, looking very anxious and uneasy. "That weird feeling isn't going away, Randy. It's driving me crazy! I can't even think up any good jokes to distract myself. I just _know_ something bad is going to happen. And very soon."

"Well, what is it?" he whispered. Fungus was only a few steps ahead, but the guy was too busy complaining to listen, anyway.

"That's the problem! I don't _know_ what!" she confessed, pulling at her feelers. "This is just like with Becca's jumping episode…I didn't know what was going to happen until it actually _started_ to happen! So I think I may come along on this little getaway to your dad's…If you're all going to be in one place, that'll make it easier to make sure everyone stays safe."

"I wish you wouldn't…" Having her around for several days straight? Things were bound to be difficult if three of the party was able to see her. "Just try to stay out of sight as much as possible? Bernard is still in denial, and Rex is too unpredictable. Things could get complicated." He groaned quietly at the thought of his father, too. "This weekend is already getting complicated enough and it hasn't even begun."

…

The drive out to the countryside went smoothly.

The entire party rode in the Brennen's biggest van to make things easier. (It was really the only thing large enough for Bernard's gorilla-like frame.) The trip to the Boggs' home would be few hours, and with Bernard nearly recovered from his amputation, everyone wanted him to be comfortable. But with the backseats over-stuffed with Naomi's extra luggage, the van was still cramped.

To his dismay, Randall ended up squashed in the third row between the mountain of luggage and Rex's carseat. The kid didn't mind the company though, and began chatting up a storm even before they left the city. Becca and Sam were in the middle row, while Bernard was up front on the passenger side…and he was very regretful at letting Naomi take the wheel.

"I'm not too sure how I feel about you driving my van…"Bernard began as the car gave a sudden burst of speed as she sped up.

"But you said I could!" she whined. "Don't go back on your promise, please? I've always wanted to drive this thing. It's so luxurious compared to my hunk of junk. And these little fang-tooth designs all over it are super-cute."

"Just get as there in one piece, Princess." Becca scoffed. "Without crashing, if you don't mind?"

"Girls, don't start a fight. Always in a car, your squabbles seem to happen…" With a subtle sigh, Bernard leaned back to try and take it easy. Nobody had mentioned it, but one major reason why he wasn't at the wheel was because his right leg was the one that was missing. With the gas pedal on the right side, using his left foot to use it felt very odd. A lot more practice was needed before he could drive long distances.

Sam twisted around to face his brother. "Randall, is this how it was in the Human World, when you guys were traipsing around, stealing cars?"

"Pretty much. The string of car thefts was my idea." Randall chuckled at the memory.

"That was a fun road trip, wasn't it? I was sure we'd get caught, after half a dozen hotwire jobs!" came an unwanted voice.

Suzie was suddenly here. Half crouched in the middle of the van, in the only space left between the middle seats. She appeared so suddenly that Randall and Rex both flinched and nearly yelped in surprise.

"Shh! Don't say a word! You, too, Rex." She nodded at the boy.

Randall's patience was at its limit with her already. He frowned as if to say, 'What's the big idea?' Beside him, Rex was craning his neck to see if Mr. Bernard was aware of the ghost's presence. The big red monster had turned around and seemed to see her…his eyes went really wide for a moment. But he turned right back again to stare out the windshield determinedly, making no further sign of knowing Suzie was here. So, he was still in denial…Rex realized.

"I'll keep it quick." Suzie went on. "Randall, I don't know if this trip is a good idea…that awful feeling is only getting stronger. So keep an eye on my sister, just in case. I'll be around to help, OK?" And a single blink later, she was gone.

Rex didn't fully understand what the warning meant, but had a feeling it wasn't good. He and his uncle exchanged a look of concern.

…

The rural neighborhood was very quiet. With wooded countryside surrounding the entire town, one got the feeling that it was very much thrown into the middle of nowhere. And it was so small that it only took ten minutes to cross from one end to the other. There was only a single school, and maybe only one general store and a single park, Naomi noted as she drove, following Samuel's directions. But she liked the sleepy village anyway, as did everyone else. Randall, however, was being very neutral about this entire visit. The last time he was here had been before college days, over ten years ago. The place had barely changed.

There were many residents who lived outside of town, whose homes were more secluded up in the woods. Many dirt roads led off into who-knows-where, and it was down one of these that Sam directed them. It was at this point when Randall actually started getting nervous. The trip down this road was too familiar…whether it was nerves or nostalgia, he wasn't sure.

"Living way out here…"Bernard observed the shadows of tree branches as they drove the van through the forest. They had been on this winding road for a while, now. Would it never end? "It's not really what I expected for a scientist."

"Dad lives pretty close to the observatory," Sam explained. "He may be involved in astronomy, but he's really a man of simple tastes. And it sort of makes sense being out here, where there's no light pollution. Me? I'm more of a city monster. Same with you, right, Randy?"

"Uh huh. Sure." Randall agreed, not really paying attention. He was a bit distracted by all the scenery. What he wouldn't give to be able to go climb up a tree right now…Partly to escape the current situation, and partly because he just liked climbing trees.

Autumn colors could be seen everywhere. The trees out here in the country had already fully turned for the season. Some had even lost some leaves, so there was a definite crunch as the van travelled on. Soon, the tunnel of trees opened up to reveal a wide, open property like a hidden oasis.

The area where the house was located surprised everyone pleasantly: a large, old house of wood, standing in the middle of a clearing which was surrounded by trees. This left an enormous view of the sky overhead. It was indeed very secluded, which only added to its charm. The house may be aging, but it was still in good shape. There was a nice, homey feel to it with its wooden walls and wrap-around porch, complete with an old swinging bench. A rather large place for one monster to live in; it was obviously meant to be a family dwelling, but of course the Boggs brothers had moved out long ago. The highlight of the house was a rooftop balcony. Even from the ground, several telescopes could be spotted up there, pointing skyward; perhaps a prime spot for Zachariah's research work. Since there the house was three stories tall, there was no doubt it gave a good view of the sky..

The moment they pulled up, Rex scrambled to get out of the carseat and run around. Several piles of leaves had already been raked; great targets to charge into. Because the grassy lawn was as big as a small park, the boy had plenty of room to burn off all that pent-up energy.

An older monster—close to the same age as Bernard—came out onto the porch just as the group filed out of the van: Dr. Zachariah Boggs, astrophysicist extraordinaire; at least that was what he called himself when in a boastful mood.) Randall resembled him the most, having inherited the same eight limbs and purple scales. (Whereas Samuel had a single set of arms and grey scales.) There were minor differences, though, with Zach being a darker, eggplant color, and the fronds on his head were shorter and more numerous, running all the way down his tattooed back. His eyes were grey, unlike his children's' green ones. He also wore glasses; very expensive-looking glasses that made him appear evermore intelligent.

Zach laughed as he watched his grandson run around into the leaf piles. "Good thing I raked those up earlier…Glad you could all make it." He turned to his house guests as they approached. It was clear by his stiff manners that he didn't entertain. But the gang carried their bags inside happily and introduced themselves; Zach relaxed and acted more natural after this. He even greeted Samuel with a warm father-son hug…but when Randall came over the threshold, he merely regarded him with concern. "You should be wearing your glasses, Randall. It'll help with that squinting, you know."

A boiling feeling of annoyance rose up…but Randall kept quiet. _Well, this visit is off to a roaring start._

 _Just keep calm and don't lose your temper. Look how happy everyone else is!_ Said the voice of an inner conscience. _If you ruin it, you'll never hear the end of it from Naomi. It's her birthday this weekend, after all._

… _Darn it, conscience! Why are you always right?_ So he swallowed his temper and didn't say a word.

The house had an old-fashioned feel to it with its large, spacious rooms and wooden banisters. The furniture was also wood; very humble, simple and homey. It had barely changed from the last time Randall was here… All of the framed photos were the same, too: old ones from when he and Sam were kids, and of their passed-away mother. There were a lot of newer ones of Sam and Rex over the stone fireplace. Ones that spanned the kid's entire life, for sure…Randall walked over for a quick look while the gang was busy chatting with Zach. For some reason, the newer photos made him feel very left-out…But he swallowed all questions and followed his father and the rest of the gang as Zach showed where everyone would be staying.

With an entire three floors and an abundance of rooms, everyone would have their own one to sleep in. "It's so nice to have actual guests," Zach was saying as he led them upstairs. "With all this space, I was thinking of taking in boarders. But then I thought: 'Nah. Can't risk having a bunch of weirdos having free reign of the place.'"

"I take it's also because you're out a lot?" Becca asked, helped Bernard hop up the stairs with his one leg.

"I suppose. My work keeps me busy even on normal days, so you'll forgive me if I'm not around much. That new comet is really taking up a bunch of time. You'll like it, I know. It's the biggest event of my career."

"When can we come see it?" Naomi bounced on her heels eagerly. "I've never been to an observatory before. Is it like on T.V., with all the scientists walking around in white coats and everything? And a huge lab with a giant telescope?"

Zach shrugged. "Pretty much. I've arranged for a visitation on Sunday, so—"

"Yes! My birthday! What a piece of luck…" Naomi cried out in excitement.

Becca and Bernard shared the enthusiasm, but Randall remained neutral. He just wanted to get away from everyone and have a few minutes alone to think.

Sam and Rex had already wandered off; having both called dibs on rooms on the top floor. Rex would be taking up residence in his uncle's old bedroom, a fact that Randall was relieved by. Having to stay in there would've brought back too many unwanted memories. (Also it was because the bed in there was too small, now that he'd grown out of the awkward college-age years.) Once his father had taken Bernard and the girls off to show them their own living spaces, he claimed a plain guest room as his own. It had minimal décor and a good view of the back lawn. _Finally, some peace_ …he tossed his bag onto an armchair and collapsed onto the bed to stare at the ceiling… _Now_ he could think more clearly.

 _I can't believe the way he said 'hello'…'You should be wearing your glasses.' Ugh…great to see you too, Dad. Tell me, how many astronomical theories have you some up with this week?_

He was only alone for a few minutes, however. The door was still ajar.

"Try to take it easy, Randall." Becca popped her head into the room upon walking by. "Don't be so worried about what your dad thinks of you. Honestly, you'd think this was a test of some kind, the way you're going on! Chill out, for all our sakes." She sensed he wanted to be alone, and didn't even wait for a response. "I'm gonna help Naomi with all those bags. You'd think she'd packed for a six-month vacation. Bernard's just down the hall, so you know where to find us if you wanna talk, alright?"

She left as quickly as she'd appeared. But Randall pondered the statement after she'd gone. Maybe she was right…As awkward as it was being here in his old childhood home, that didn't mean he had to be miserable the entire time…maybe he could sneak out after dark and find solace that way…Despite the colder weather, he still couldn't shake the habit of sleeping in a tree.

…

The gang spent much of the next day settling in and enjoying themselves. Zach went off to the observatory, of course, without even bothering to say farewell to his house guests that morning. (His two sons weren't really surprised at this.) With him gone, Randall was far less tense. Without a pair of parental eyes watching his every move, he could relax and try to focus on other things. He joined the others in group activities like games, and told about the origins of the mantle photos when they asked about them. Sam offered to tell some embarrassing stories from when they were kids, but Randall strictly forbade it. (Much to everyone's disappointment.)

Rex was all too happy to be here. His favorite thing to do was running around the lawn, playing with the fallen leaves. The kid actually took up a rake to reform the piles, just so he could jump into them over and over. Randall had the urge to join in, but only did so when he thought no one else was watching. Sure, jumping into leaf piles was fun, but he couldn't let the others know he actually _liked_ it! Unbeknownst to him, Sam had seen it all, but wisely said nothing. His brother did have a reputation to keep up.

Naomi and Becca considered the area to be a nice, country retreat; a good break from the hustle and bustle of the city. They explored the local town in the morning, but found more entertainment just hanging around the Boggs' family home. There were all sorts of nooks and crannies to find; even a few secret passageways that led from one room to another. Becca theorized that one of the brothers had built them. She had a feeling that Randall had always been interested in building things, even as a kid, and it was a funny thought to imagine him so, tinkering with the house like this.

When afternoon arrived, the gang decided to have an archery contest out on the lawn, just like old times in campsites long gone. Bernard's missing leg was somewhat of a hindrance. He didn't much feel like joining, since his balance was still off, so he just got comfortable on the porch swing to watch. He didn't complain, though. It was nice to have some down time…unless that weird hallucination from the van showed up again. The sight had been very disturbing…So far, there had been no sign of it since arriving here. But Bernard couldn't help but be wary…all these woods surrounding the property seemed the perfect setting for a ghost to show up…he settled down on the bench to watch the contest.

Naomi's archery had greatly improved; she'd obviously been practicing. But Becca and Randall were extremely advanced. They were both racking up points like crazy as the contest went on, leaving Naomi in the dust.

"C'mon, this is not fair!" she complained when Becca hit another bullseye.

"If only we'd stayed in the swamps longer. Then your aim would've gotten a hell of a lot better." Becca taunted competitively.

"Humph. Move over…I'll get this next one…" Naomi held her breath and drew the bowstring.

Randall was having fun. An archery contest in the middle of the woods; this brought back good memories, despite them being memories of banishment days. As he waited for the girls to finish the round, a sudden sight blinked into view. Just out of the corner of his eye, and waving frantically. _Ugh…not now._

Suzie was standing in the grass nearby and ushered him closer. He did so casually, so as not to draw the others' attentions. " _Why_ are you having so much fun? Don't you know there's an impending crisis?" Suzie demanded.

With a gloating Becca retrieving the arrows, it seemed safe to reply in a whisper. "You don't even know what that crisis is! And I grew up in these parts; I doubt any terrors are going to happen in a sleepy little neighborhood like this. So quit worrying." Moods were high and nothing appeared to be going wrong. The ghost was worrying over nothing!

Over on the porch swing, Bernard's eyes widened in shock. That sight…it _wasn't_ real. Suzie was dead!…she was, right? So Randall was just arguing with—what, then? Thin air? Or was he hallucinating that, too? Bernard's heart began to quicken in fear. Suzie wasn't there…she wasn't there…she _couldn't_ be…

The older monster squeezed his eyes shut to will the vision to go away. It worked…Suzie had vanished, leaving only Randall, Becca and Naomi arguing about whose turn it was to keep score. He rubbed the stitched-up stump of his leg…"Whatever those painkillers are doing to me, I'm getting pretty tired of it."

…

The woods surrounding the house were not as wild as the Mandragora Campgorunds. It was a place full of nostalgia for Randall. He had played here all the time when as a kid, exploring the trails with Sam and getting into trouble as boys always did. Nature was an ideal setting for practicing their camouflaging skills, or just chasing each other amongst the trees. As children, they were very close and got along well, and it had been easy to spend hours out here without even realizing it.

Bernard wanted to head outside for some exercise the following day, and so Randall offered to take the gang on a short hike along the trails. Anyway, it was a good excuse to get away from Zach, who had taken the Saturday off. (Yet even at home, he was still working away, via laptop.)

Out in the crisp autumn air, the gang of formerly banished friends felt very much at home in the forest. The trees were all so colorful with the reds, yellows, and oranges of the season. The ground was a little muddy, and there was a cold nip in the air. Randall wore a four-armed jacket to try and retain some heat, but he still felt sluggish. If the sun could reach them better through the branches, then he would have more energy. "Cold weather…humph…wish I lived someplace perpetually warm."

"Talking to yourself again, Randall?" Becca heard, only a step ahead of him.

"Maybe."

She still found the old habit amusing. "Monsters will start thinking you really are crazy. Unless they already do." She teased. "C'mon, keep up! Bernard's way ahead of us and he's on crutches!"

The stump of Bernard's leg was free of bandages, finally. The stitches were still there, and there was some pain, but otherwise, he was doing much better. He was even at the head of the group and moving surprisingly fast, with Naomi close behind. Perhaps being outdoors was doing him some good.

Randall and Becca ran to catch up. Suddenly, Naomi jumped backwards and collided with them, and screeched in terror! A large, grey toad-like creature hopped across the path directly in front of her. "AH! What in the name of all things disgusting and horrible was _that_?!" she spun on her heels to face Randall "Don't tell me there are gross, giant warty _toads_ in these woods, Randall!"

"Yep. Be grateful they're not the poison-spitting ones, Princess." He laughed at her reaction.

"Oh my _gosh_ , that thing freaked me out! Quit laughing, all of you!" she pouted in embarrassment.

All sorts of monstrous animals lived around here. Nothing too dangerous; The two-headed birds and hissing green wildcats weren't really a problem if one avoided them. Sometimes a multi-eyed boar could be spotted, digging for roots to eat. Over the course of their hike, the gang actually saw one a little ways off the trail. More giant toads were seen, too. There were an abundance of them today, but it really wasn't a surprise with the stream so close by. It may be a cold day, but Randall was certainly enjoying all of this activity. He wondered what other things they would spot along the trails—

A ghost was one thing had _hadn't_ hoped to see.

She stood off in the distance, some ways up the path. _Waving_ at him, of all things! But she wasn't smiling, Randall noticed.

The group was moving right towards her: Bernard in the lead, Naomi and Becca right behind, and him bringing up the rear. The girls were gossiping loudly about Dr. Boggs' astronomy work and what to name the new comet. They did not notice Bernard freeze in place.

Randall did, though. The older monster had paused, crutches in the dirt, with his feather crest popped up in shock. But he did not say a word, nor make a sound. He just resumed his pace and walked right past the ghost. Even when the girl waved hello, his head didn't even turn in her direction.

Randall held his breath as Naomi and Becca approached her…they kept on chatting and walked right by. Good. _They_ still couldn't see her, at least.

"Can you believe it?" Suzie crossed her arms and marched over to join him. "I've showed up at the Brennens' house so many times already, but Bernard barely even _looks_ at me, now. It's like he's pretending I'm not even here!" Then her expression became quite sad. "Maybe it was a mistake, letting him see me."

"You think?" Randall whispered.

She tagged along for a while, staying at the back of the line. For Randall, this was very strange. He fought not to respond as Suzie scurried around, pointing at the fall foliage, or began chasing another giant toad, or admiring the forest's colorful patches of mushrooms. She had been the best forager during the group's banishment, and it seemed she still liked her chore of searching for wild food. "You know, I think animals are more sensitive," she hypothesized. "I'm pretty sure all these dumb toads can see me. Makes it easier to chase them out of hiding!"

"Don't tell me you're the one who's been doing that this whole time." Randall scoffed. So the mystery of the frequent wildlife was solved, apparently.

Suzie put aside her silliness for a more serious question. "How's Becca doing? This little weekend trip is going well, right?"

"She's fine. There haven't been any signs of her going off the edge again. Literally."

But Suzie still wasn't convinced. "Good mood or not, keep an eye on her anyway, OK? I just don't want anything else to happen to her."

Randall was getting tired of all these warnings. "What if you're wrong about this whole premonition?" he hissed quietly.

"Being dead has its advantages, Randy. I was right about that suicide attempt, wasn't I? I warned you just in time."

He sighed. That was true. But it only put more pressure on him. "If you're so sure about this, why don't you just leave me alone and just warn me of anything dire in case I miss something?"

"Geez, are you still talking to yourself?" Becca held back to wait for him to catch up with the group. "It's steadily getting worse, Randall. Better cut it out before I belt you one." She wavered a dark-green fist in the air. But she grinned in a joking way.

"I'm working on it. Habits are hard to break, you know." He hurried to catch up. _Especially when there's an invisible someone talking right back._ Still doubtful of Suzie's warnings, he checked over his shoulder to see if she was still there. But the vision had already blinked out of sight.

…

That night, the sky was clear and cloudless. A perfect time to go stargazing.

One of the forest hilltops was considerably higher than the others, and within walking distance of the house. Zach promised his guests a memorable evening and he packed up several portable telescopes without even giving an explanation why at first. Just down one of the trails, the trees just seemed to stop and give way to a clean patch of grassy land. It was here that that group of monsters found themselves that night. They had stopped on top of the hill to set up all the telescopes so as better to see the skies. But even without them, tonight's sky was twinkling with tiny pinpricks of light that would've marveled any monster. It was so much clearer out here than in the city. No city or street lights to ruin it all…

As the night became quite dark, the group really settled in. The passage of time was irrelevant.

Randall turned his gaze from the dark sky to other surroundings. His friends were scattered about the hill: Bernard lying on his back in the grass, with Samuel and Rex nearby sharing one of the smaller telescopes. Becca and Naomi were at the edge of the hill, each with their own telescope and giving their opinions about the starry view. Of course…there was far more variety out here when it came to stargazing—more colors, more constellations, that sort of thing—then in the Human World. When in banishment, the skies tended to look very different and alien. It was a simple fact that Randall had realized with surprise on his first night of banishment.

"Hey, Randy, are you coming over?" Naomi asked, offering the use of the scope she had.

"It's still your turn. I'm good." He remained where he was, sitting on a tree stump and perfectly content. His mood was good, despite the fact that his father was here, too.

Zach had been telling the others about various constellations this whole time. But with the others all chatting amongst themselves, now, and Rex dozing off in Sam's arms, he was free to finally make his move and go over to where Randall was.

Of course this made Randall very nervous. What sort of chat did he have in mind, now?

His father leaned against the tree stump uncomfortably, not sure how to begin.

Randall remained stoic. He wasn't about to say anything. If his father wanted to talk, let him figure it out! _I'm just gonna stay right here. So long as he keeps quiet and no ghosts show up, this evening will be perfect._ But the wish didn't go according to plan.

Zach had never been good at honest heart-to-heart talks, but he could try. After everything his youngest son had accomplished lately, there was much to discuss. "So…I heard that project of yours is going into production soon."

"How do you know that?" Randall couldn't help asking. He had been careful not to say a word about the upgraded door station design ever since arriving. Since Zach's visit to the city some time ago, it was a topic best avoided.

Zach nodded in Sam's direction. "I have my ways. The way your brother was going on and on about it, it sounds like things are going well for you."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Randall…" Zach warned in a scolding way. "We don't have to be enemies over this…"

Randall wanted to retaliate, but allowed his father to go on.

"I'm truly sorry for doubting this ambition of yours." He finally apologized. And he really did look it. "It just seemed so…I don't know; _far-fetched_ when I first heard about it, that I didn't think anything would come of it. Sam told me everything that's been going on at that factory. Why didn't you tell me? If I'm not hearing about it from him, I'm reading about it in a newspaper or else watching news reports on T.V."

Randall shrugged. "Didn't think you'd care."

"Of course I do! Look…I admit I'm hard to impress; that's just how I am. But when you got banished, well…let's just say there was a change of heart. Sam and I thought we'd never see you again. Do you know when he got hired at that factory, he even sneaked into the door vault to try and search for you?"

"Really? I thought that was an exaggeration."

"Nope. He really did. Must've gone through hundreds of doors, judging from what he told me…but anyway, Randall," Zach went back on track. "When you returned from that horrid place, I resolved to try and be more supportive in whatever you do. Even if it is just being a lowly maintenance monster." He then had an afterthought. "This big engineering project is far better, though."

Randall suppressed a chuckle; Dad was the same as always. "Thanks." The two were quiet for a few minutes, not sure how to continue. Their father-son relationship had never been the best, but Randall asked for confirmation, "So, are we good, then?"

"We're good. For now." Zach agreed. There seemed to be more things on his mind, though. "By the way, if I may change the subject, how are you getting along with your friends?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Rex has been telling me rumors about 'Miss Becca,' as he likes to call her. Now I know how rumors can twist around, so I'd just ask you outright—"

"What? No." Randall sapped quickly, lest the others overhear. They were all occupied with the telescopes, gazing at the night sky with wonder. Rex was still dozing off, lying back in Sam's arms and pointing out the biggest, brightest stars. Randall hoped that kid wasn't ruining his reputation. " _Why_ is that kid perpetually determined to make me miserable? All of that sneaking around is driving everyone crazy enough…"

"OK, OK. Just thought I'd ask." Zach said. "C'mon; I'll point out some more constellations. Picking a name for the new comet may take some time. There's nothing like a round of stargazing to get some inspiration."

After some arguing, Randall gave in and decided to try the telescopes. Much to each of their surprise, that talk hadn't been so bad. Maybe the enmity between them would patch up after all. Implausible, yet possible.

…

The Nosferatu Institute of Astronomy was a very large complex. It was built high up on a clifftop, far away from town and in the middle of the woods. It was pretty close to Zach's house, though, which made sense because he was such a prominent figure in these parts. Out here in the deep heart of the countryside, the street lights were essentially non-existent, leaving nothing to interfere with the starry night skies. The gang, along with Samuel and Rex, set out for the place that Sunday evening with high hopes. It wasn't every day when one was given the opportunity to name a space phenomenon.

The whole group took a few precious moments to take in the sight the cliff offered. "Wow…" Becca leaned on a railing at the edge to stare at it all. "Even if some of the nerds who work here hate their job, it'd still be worth it for this view."

It was a still night with the woods spread out ominously all around. The clear air would allow the sky to be filled with thousands of stars; it was sure to be even better from way up here than from the hills in the woods. The clifftop view allowed them to see for miles and miles around in every direction…one couldn't help but stop and take it all in.

The entrance to the Institute was a royal-looking flight of stairs with several landings in-between, and decorative statues of historical monsters. (Ones that had been involved in astronomy, of course.) It was just after sunset when Zach greeted them out here. "Ah, there you are! About time. There've been a few upgrades since you were here last, Rex," he scooped up his grandson when the boy came running forward. "What do you think?"

Rex craned his neck to stare at the observatory's second giant telescope, a new one which was still under construction. But its form was already recognizable, pointing skyward from a dome-shaped section of the roof. "Whoa…is that one new? Cool! But we're gonna look at the comet through the old one, right? The old one's way bigger…"

"That's right. Now, come on, all of you! The news of this is going public tomorrow, so you're the very first ones to know about it…" Zach began telling all about recent events, going on in a polite-bragging sort of way to express his pride. No one seemed to mind, for they were all used to his ways by now.

Randall didn't even pay attention. He lingered outside for a last look at the sunset before following the others. With the sun nearly gone, its last light cast golden-orange rays all across the treetops. With such a nice view, he half-expected Suzie to show up and comment…but she didn't. So he headed into the observatory without further stalling.

The Institude was a series of many buildings, all dedicated to the study of space and stars. Everything was modern and new-looking, painted white and silver, with many sharp angles and cleanliness to it. Monsters were starting to show up for the night shift; which was pretty normal for an observatory. Some wore the white lab coats Zach had mentioned. The entire complex consisted of waxed floors with incredibly high ceilings. Every hallway led to a lab of some kind. All the equipment was very high-tech and expensive, and several classrooms had an outdoor balcony or veranda attached to them, so astronomy students could have first-hand experience with the stars. A lot of space-themed décor and models were in the foyer and in every hall, too. It felt like a combination of a school and an advanced science lab.

"I can't believe your father works in this place. It's so formal compared to the factory," Becca said to Randall at one point. "Has he always been here?"

"Yeah. Since Sam and I were kids." Randall remembered his workaholic father spending many weekends here, even. "It's a bit different from the last time I was here…A lot of new wings have been added to the place, so it's much bigger then I remember."

After walking through several floors and going up a few flights of stairs, they lingered behind the rest of the group upon coming to a window. It was a long one that spanned the whole length of the hallway, offering a panoramic scene of the woods and sky. They were very far away from the local town; even from way up here on this cliff, it still couldn't be seen. Becca came to a halt to admire it. "Seems kind of idyllic."

"What do you mean?" Randall asked, curious.

"This." She gestured at the beautiful panoramic view. "The countryside; getting to grow up in a place like this…it seems so—far away from trouble, I guess…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

He understood what she was saying. Sure, it was great being out in the woods, but the city suited him more. He supposed some monsters would really love it out here…then he realized how distracted Becca was, lost in her thoughts. Of course…he kept forgetting she had had a rough situation, what with having to raise Suzie after their parents' death. Maybe he should be more grateful. He was about to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, when his father suddenly called for then to catch up.

"Hurry up, you two! Don't want to get lost in a place like this!" Zach called from the end of the hall. He'd had to backtrack, for even Bernard and Naomi had gotten distracted, too.

Sam and Rex were keeping up, though. The boy was starting to get overexcited and was darting from place to place. "Look, Grandpa, it's getting really dark out! How soon can we see the comet? When? When!? Is it flying into our path?"

"Patience. We're going to the lab now." Zach picked him up again. "My assistants have been tracking it for days; it's a slow-moving thing, but still in the perfect position to spot."

Bernard and Naomi quickened their pace, too. But Becca was far more subdued in showing her emotions. So she did a bit of acting and grabbed one of Randall's right arms to pull him along. "Well, c'mon, Genius. Who appears to be the son of a genius, by the way. Naming this flaming ball of gas is the whole point of this weekend, isn't it? So let's hurry!"

Zach led them through building after building, slowly making their way to the largest laboratory. Many monsters nodded a respectful greeting at him as they passed.

"I say, Zach, do you teach any astronomy classes here?" Bernard asked, swinging between crutches as fast as he could. "A lot of these students seem to know you."

"Sometimes I teach. Only the top students make it to my classes, though. Which isn't many." Around the next corner, Zach finally arrived at a set of large double doors. "Here we are; don't touch anything or push any buttons. Some visitors learn that the hard way." He frowned warningly at Rex in particular, who made a sheepish grin.

This, the biggest lab of the Institute, was where Zach spent most of his time. As the highest-ranking member of the astronomy team, it was basically his domain. The lab was so full of computers, wires, switches, buttons, and control panels that it was a wonder anyone could make sense of it all. It was also home to one of the giant telescopes: a massive thing that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. There were old-school diagrams and drawings in here, for some reason. And some of the lab workers were on the more casual side, doing their work with a carefree attitude that Zach rolled his eyes at, but said nothing. (It was probably on the account that he had a group of visitors in tow.)

He led them to the center of the room. A viewing station for the giant telescope was here; the lenses through which one peered through were of normal size, but the telescope itself was so enormous that it took up most of the lab. A portion of the roof was retracted to make way for the giant machine. This meant some chilly night air was drifting in, but not too much. Several stars were out by this time and the sky was even darker.

Zach went to go check on some assistants who were working nearby, giving the gang permission to gaze through at the comet if they wished. Randall, who wasn't particularly interested, got comfortable on the old sofa nearby, and just listened to the others' reactions.

"Whoa…" Rex marveled when Sam held him up to peer through the telescope. It was several minutes before the boy pulled away to voice his thoughts. "It looks cool! But Dad, it doesn't look like it's moving at all. Are you sure it's a comet? I thought they were supposed to move really fast."

"It is," Sam clarified, peeking through the other lense to see for himself. "It's just so far away and so slow that it only looks like it's holding still. I wonder how long it'll take to make a round trip?"

 _That's probably what Dad's working on right now._ Randall observed Zach talking animatedly to the lab assistants. They all seemed excited about something, showing some star charts and sharing theories. _Ugh…with this thing being such a big deal, we'll never hear the end of it._ Randall rolled in eyes in exasperation and crossed every set of arms.

 _Quit being such a selfish jerk!_ His inner conscience pointed out loudly. _Your father's proud; that's all. You should try and be more supportive, like he's trying to be for you in his own weird way_.

Randall's eyes popped open wide with dread. He was reverting back to his old ways without even realizing! _Good grief! Who knew redemption would be this hard?_ He couldn't let those inner demons control him again. He uncrossed his arms and sat up to try and fight his boredom. Naomi was at the telescope, now, and talking a mile a minute as usual. That always made for good entertainment.

"It's so pretty!" Naomi clapped her clawed hands after looking for several minutes. "And I didn't expect it to be bluish; I was thinking more red or orange. This is way better; just like a little sapphire or diamond twinkling in the sky—"

"Can it, Princess." Becca rolled her eyes as she approached the viewing lenses for her turn. "Cheesy descriptions like that outta be—oh, wow!" even she was surprised. "Hey, Randall, come check it out!"

With the gang enjoying this, he didn't spoil it by protesting. So he came up the steps to the viewing area. It must be good if even Becca's tough exterior was broken through.

"C'mon, take this side," she said, moving over to free one of the lenses.

Randall peeked through. What he saw was a pale blue-and-lavender comet that was extremely bright compared to the blackness of space behind it. It was small, but the tail stretched out very far and coiled in random directions and there was a hazy glow of blue-white surrounding the entire thing. It kind of looked like space dust, or some kind of mystical-looking fog, but whatever it was created quite a lovely portrait.

The resolution to be supportive still rang in his mind. His father really would get high recognition for a discovery like this… _OK, next time Dad mentions this thing, I'll try and say something nice. Gotta keep redeeming myself, after all…and being nice to my Dad is a good step._

Becca had gone very quiet all of a sudden. "…Wish Suzie was here to see it. With all those science-fiction books she liked, this reminds me of her quite a bit."

Randall went stiff with guilt…but then realized the words had not been spoken with sadness. Pulling his eye away from the telescope, he turned to look at her. She was still gazing at the comet thoughtfully. But there was a subtle smile on her face that could almost be described as peaceful. He couldn't believe it: she was utterly calm and happy…It had been a while since she'd shown a natural happiness, without any of that phony acting. It was wonderful to so her in such a way. He couldn't even describe it; seeing her like this was…great.

He gazed at her for a bit, trying to read what was going on in her head. He didn't realize how long until she noticed. But she didn't snap in annoyance as he would've expected on a normal day. She only looked right back, still content. "I know she's gone, Randall," Becca said. "And I'm really sorry I blamed you at first. But I've forgiven you now; you know that, right?"

It was hard to believe that, sometimes. "Well—"

"I'm just glad you were there at the end; she didn't die all alone out there. So thank you. And thanks again for helping me cope with it these last few months." She told him. "You're a good friend."

That made Randall's guilt lessen considerably. If Becca was admitting such personal things, it must be true. She wouldn't discuss such things with just anyone. They both gazed at the other in understanding. No words were even needed.

Suddenly, Randall realized just how close in proximity they were, what with the whispered conversation. But for some reason, it wasn't awkward; it was rather nice, actually. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Naomi watching them with an odd look, so he made a casual recovery by turning back to peer through the telescope. Becca clued in and did the same. They acted as if the moment had never happened.

But it sent one loud question running through Randall's mind: What was _that?_ He tried to forget about it…but it wasn't easy, for some reason.

Bernard took his turn at admiring the blue-and-lavender comet next. He was just as thrilled by the sight as Naomi had been. But Randall couldn't pay attention to what he was saying. The moment from earlier still rang strong in his mind, and it was a relief when the group finally gathered around the sofa to discuss a name for Zach's big discovery.

They struggled with names for the better part of an hour. For something as big as a comet, the name had to be impressive and memorable, yet not too weird or wild. Rex had so many ridiculous ideas that he was babbling almost non-stop. All of the boy's naming ideas were too silly-sounding. Like 'Comet Bob' or 'Lady Spitfire.' Good for a laugh, though. Eventually, Rex grew tired of having his ideas rejected, and proceeded to wander around the lab trying to push buttons just to see what they did. This didn't sit well with Sam, who promptly left the sofa to chase after him.

Randall was growing tired of all the disagreeing. The group had argued over every suggestion thus far, and he had yet to voice his own thoughts. The responsibility of choosing a name was a task Zach had given to _him_ , after all. _Maybe I shouldn't have asked for their help_ …he observed his friends go through yet another round of names.

"Are you serious?" Becca said to Bernard. "What kind of title is that? 'Melvin the Fast' sounds like a lame superhero, rather than a burning ball of gas flying through space!"

The big red monster shrugged. He thought it was better than some of the others.

"Oh, I know!—" Naomi began.

"Oh please, not another stupid girly name," Becca interrupted. "I've heard enough of those from you. Randall, you've been quiet this whole time. What do you think we should choose?"

A part of Randall was still pondering that odd moment back at the telescope. Having her speak directly to him only reminded him of it. But he snapped out of the thought and looked over at Naomi instead. "Let's hear it, anyway; what else do you have in mind?"

"Well…" the lavender monster twirled a strand of hair around her claw with hesitation. "I dunno if it would be OK with everyone…but how about 'Suzanne?'"

Everyone's reaction was different. While Naomi remained unsure, Randall stood up straighter as if hit by a thunderclap; why hadn't he thought of that? Bernard looked surprised, but he beamed warmly immediately after. What an honor it would be for Suzie, if she could see this, now. And as for Becca…she was at shocked at first and didn't say a word…then she gave in to an emotional inhale. Randall couldn't tell if that was good or bad; but she was smiling. He felt obligated to say something to break the silence. "I like that idea. Well, how 'bout it, Becca? 'Suzanne's Comet?"

A strange feeling welled up inside him as she nodded with a smile.

…

Suzie was so elated by the news that she paid Rex a visit that night. Despite it being after midnight, the boy was still up, doodling in a coloring book when she arrived.

"…so my name is basically immortalized in a _comet_ , if one stops to think about it!" Suzie blathered on happily. She sat on the floor across the child-sized table Rex was at. "And to think it was Naomi who came up with it. You know, sometimes that woman actually has good ideas. She's really matured ever since the gang was un-banished. She still acts kind of silly, though…hard to believe she's thirty-one."

"Uh huh. I think she had a good birthday today. After getting back, she opened lots of presents and we had a big cake and sang 'Happy Birthday' and everything! The cake was really girly and all pink, but it still tasted good." said Rex, still coloring as they talked. "You're looking much better, Miss Suzie."

"Really?" Suzie examined her arms, and saw that all the bruises had healed completely.

"Yeah! 'Cept for your head." He pointed at the ghost's facial bruising and miss-sized pupils. He walked around the table to check the break on the back of her skull. It was still there, looking just as terrible as ever. "Boy, that must've really hurt. But you're getting better, right?"

"I hope so…" Suzie rubbed the break and rearranged her dreadlock-like feelers to hide it. "Maybe my sister is getting better, too…hmm…I should go talk to your uncle about it. Do you think he's still up? I'd go to Bernard, but he seems forever determined to ignore me."

"Aw, can't you stay a bit longer? "Rex begged. "Everyone's gotta be asleep right now, so there's no point waking Uncle Randy."

"Well…OK, but just for a bit. You need your sleep too, you know." Suzie sat back down on the carpet and he showed her what he had colored so far. Once the boy was tired, she could just slip away to find Randall, anyway. She had a feeling he was still awake.

…

It was getting late, but Randall had too much on his mind. He couldn't sleep. A lot of things had happened today to make him very much confused. So he quietly left his room to sneak off, camouflaged in grey to blend in with the shadows.

It was silent in this, the witching hour. The only noises to be heard were the muffled voices of Rex and Suzie…a crack of light shone under the kid's door. He must be having a late-night chat with the ghost, vision, or whatever she was. Randall tiptoed past on all eights to move quicker. He wanted to be alone right now and Suzie was something he needed a break from after all the close calls lately.

He climbed the spiral stairs up to the rooftop balcony. The night air was even chillier now, but fresh air was oh so welcoming. The view of the sky that the balcony offered was not as open as the stargazing hilltop. There were a lot of tall trees surrounding the house, and so the sights were a bit on the spookier side, with many dark and foreboding silhouettes.

Randall leaned against the railing. The sound of crickets sang out, but not as prevalent as in summertime. A lot of nocturnal frogs were croaking away—or in some cases, roaring—like tiny banshees. That was one thing he had always liked about growing up in this old place. There were always interesting creatures to listen to after dark.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" said a female voice.

So Naomi was up here, too. Randall hadn't noticed her in the dark. "Nah; got too much on my mind." He said as she came over to the railing to join him. Her lavender hair was a mess and she was clad in a plush bathrobe and slippers; clearly she had been trying to sleep and had come up for some fresh air, too.

"You and Sam were some lucky kids to get to live around here!" she complimented. "It's a bit spooky right now, but I love it anyway, with all this open space and the great views, not to mention a decent town nearby. It's small, but awfully quaint. Shame there's no shopping mall, though."

Randall rolled his eyes at that last part. Naomi was always a bit too vain for her own good. "I take it you had a good birthday, then?"

"Definitely! Totally a thousand times better than last year. Last year, it was my turn to go hunting, and the camp we had in that woods was sooo damp and muddy! It was just—ugh!" she grimaced in disgust at the memory. "Plus, that was when I started to get sick with that awful bout of pneumonia, remember?"

"No. Bernard had kicked me out of the group by then."

"Oh, yeah…well, I'm sure he's eternally sorry for that." Naomi had forgotten. At least they had all reunited sometime later.

Randall and Naomi chatted for a bit, remembering times gone by while listening to the frogs singing. There was a point when she mentioned hearing Randall talking to himself several times over the weekend, noting that he was doing that an awful lot. He just nodded and acted like it was just a bad habit he had formed. In reality he had just been having brief chats with a ghost…despite Suzie's warnings, nothing bad had happened all the long weekend. Not to Becca, nor anyone else. Maybe the ghost had been mistaken…

"That was a good call, naming the comet 'Suzanne'," he said after Naomi's long string of run-on sentences. "I think she would have liked it."

Naomi nodded a little sadly, leaning on the railing. "Yeah…she read way too many sci-fi novels. Having her own comet seems…I dunno…kind of right…Oh! Speaking of comets, that reminds me," she said with remembrance. "What was _that_ back at the observatory?"

"Huh?"

"You know, at the telescope? With you and Becca? What was with the staring?" she smiled with curiosity.

 _Oh. That._ Randall wasn't too sure himself. It had just been a quiet moment. They had both been reflecting on Suzie's death and had been in close proximity, having a private conversation. That was all. With so many other monsters in the room, the situation seemed a bit embarrassing now. But it would have been better if no one else been around—he suddenly had an idea of what Naomi was implying. _No! What am I thinking?!_

"Don't you go thinking up such silly notions, too! I _haven't_ gone soft." Randall snapped back to reality. "Rex has already accused me of that enough times, already. I don't need the whole gang _ganging up_ on me."

Naomi threw up her clawed hands. "Sorry. It's just that ever since—"

"Don't." he interrupted. "Things are good right now; I don't want it all to be ruined. What is everyone implying, anyway?"

"Whoa, chill out, Randy." Naomi remained nice and casual, still leaning against the railing to watch Randall pace around. "Maybe it was just an assumption? It's just that ever since Becca wrote that suicide note and tried to jump off the roof—well, ever since you saved her and all—" Then, without any obvious reason, Naomi went silent and as stiff as a board.

Randall, still scoffing at all these presumptuous interrogations, was immediately concerned. For her to go quiet in the middle of a sentence was serious. Her three blue eyes were wide with alarm and her claws gripped the railing so hard there were sure to be marks later. She was backed into it as if cornered in fear.

He blinked at her, not saying anything. A great dread overcame him and he instantly felt his heart beat faster in alarm. _Oh no…I know that look…_ He turned around with trepidation…

Yep. There was Suzie. The midnight shadows only made her appear all the more eerie.

 _Not again._ He turned back to Naomi. She really looked like she had just seen a ghost. Suzie was motioning for him to say something and explain, but he really didn't want to. This nightmare would never end…

But he didn't even say a word before Naomi opened her mouth and let out a terrified, high-pitched, ear-piercing, wake-the-dead scream!

 **Who doesn't love a bit of a cliffhanger? :) Poor Randall. Things are just not working in his favor. More drama to come soon!**


	20. Taking Action

**I'm back! And you all thought I was gone? For shame...**

 **So many great things have been happening in real life! First Christmas came, then New Year's, a new job, a new pet, etc. (Don't want to post too many details about my life on the internet, but you get the idea.) It's all been so great, that I just kept on procrastinating. Saying 'I'll just start the next chapter tomorrow,' but there ends up being a hundred 'tomorrows.' Lol :)**

 **It's been months! Thanks to some recent reviews from last week, ('KrazyFanFiction' and 'Sara'. love ya!) I did some revising for the final arc of this drama tale and got back to work. I always finish my stories! So I hunkered down and wrote this in a week. We're picking up right where we left off: Randall expresses his extreme frustration with Ghost Suzie and finally gets things under control. Also, trying to be civil towards Mike and Fungus, when a sudden terrible event happens, putting certain friends' lives in jeopardy... Read and enjoy! :)**

Chapter Nineteen: Taking Action

Without a fraction of hesitation, Randall scampered over in a panic. Naomi was in danger of toppling backwards over the railing. She had recoiled so fast that she almost lost her balance—he pulled her forward by the wrist before it was too late. He quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to stop her screaming. It was still going on, long and piercing, but a bit more muffled, now. "Shh!" he hissed. "Don't scream! I'll let you go if you promise not to scream, alright?"

Naomi's three eyes remained terrified. But she went quiet, at least. Though that was probably from utter shock and terror rather than following Randall's plea. She was staring straight ahead, completely paralyzed at the sight of Suzie, their dead friend…

Perhaps it the sudden state of shock, but Naomi had gone as stiff as a board. Randall turned on Suzie in anger. "What is your deal?! How many times must we go through this? If this game of reappearing and disappearing doesn't come to an end—"

"Hey! I only want to talk to my friends; it just isn't going like I'd hoped," Suzie protested, hands on her hips. "Bernard won't even _look_ at me now. I've been trying to talk to him all weekend, and he's convinced himself that I'm only a hallucination, courtesy of those pain meds."

"Good. That's one less thing to worry about."

Naomi snapped out of it. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness; _what is happening_?" She suddenly grabbed Randall's shoulders and shook him hard enough to make his teeth rattle. "Are we dead?! Did we just spontaneously _die_ somehow? Oh my God, what'll the others say? What will my _mom_ say? Tell me we're not dead!"

"No. Just her." Randall pointed a thumb at Suzie.

"What?!" Naomi dropped him, whipped her head from him, to the vision of Suzie, and back. Many times. The sight of the ghost waving and smiling meekly, standing spookily in the moonlight with dark shadows all around, was more than she could handle. "B—but if we're not dead, then _what's going on_?!" She clutched the railing again with shaky knees. Her lavender complexion went very pale all of a sudden. "Ugh…I feel sick…" Randall caught her as she slumped to the balcony floor in a cold faint.

Suzie cringed in regret. "Sorry!" she apologized when Randall sent her another angry glare. "Maybe we should've expected that. She's always been kind of jumpy, even back in the Human World. No wonder she was such a bad hunter—"

"Quiet. I've had just about enough of you." Randall warned while carrying Naomi over to a deck chair. "Look, I understand you want to talk to the others, but this is getting ridiculous!"

"I'm really sorry! I didn't mean too-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it—"

"Don't wave me aside!"

"Quiet! It's time for a good talking-to," He crossed all his arms impatiently. The pink-pajama-clad Naomi was out like a light, so he could rant all he wanted. "You just gave Princess here the shock of her life. Not to mention make Bernard question his own sanity. Talking to my nephew is one thing, Suzie, but the entire gang? It's a bad idea."

The girl appeared confused, sad, and regretful all at once. "But I thought it might…well…"

"That what? That it would accomplish something?" Randall paced his frustration out. The he noticed how his words were affecting her. She was looking at the ground, hugging herself in distress. _Finally_ she was starting to think rationally—but Randall's anger subsided upon seeing just how upset she was. He softened and went on a bit more gently. Sometimes he forgot that Suzie was still just a kid. "Nothing good is coming of this," he gestured at Naomi's unconscious form. "I know you're trying to figure out how to move on, but _this_? Making the gang see a ghost, too, won't make it any easier."

"But Rex can handle it just fine."

"Rex is a kid—a very clever kid who happens to be good at keeping his mouth shut. He thinks having you hang around is the greatest thing ever. For the others, not so much. What are you thinking?"

Suzie visibly sighed and finally looked up. "I guess I wasn't."

The quiet squeak of a door grabbed their attentions. The door leading inside to the spiral staircase creaked open just enough for a tiny orange-fronded head to pop through. "Hey, what's happening up here? I heard a big scream—" Rex then saw Naomi lying in the deck chair. "Whoa…What'd ya do now, Miss Suzie? Have you turned into a vengeful ghost?"

"What? No!" Suzie thought the accusation kind of funny and let out a giggle, despite herself.

Randall did not find this one bit funny. He noticed Naomi stir and sidestepped to block Suzie from view. There certainly couldn't be a repeat of the last five minutes.

Naomi's blue eyes fluttered opened, dazed. "Ugh…what happened?"

"You fainted." Randall tried to think up a cover story. _Quick._ "When we were talking about the comet, you just keeled right over. Remember?"

"Uh…no." Naomi blinked and sat up groggily. She looked around the rooftop balcony in confusion. She saw Rex, who was looking worried. "I thought I saw…"

"Boy, you must be more tired than you thought. Don't get up too quickly," Randall put his acting skills to use while cringing internally. He did not check behind him for the ghost's whereabouts. If that girl had any sense at all, she would make herself scarce at this delicate time. So far so good…Naomi was very pale and unsteady…but gave no sign of seeing dead monsters in the moonlight. However, she _did_ glance around as if one would show up. "You alright?" Randall asked in concern. "Need water or anything?"

"I—I—I thought I saw… I saw…" The stutter trailed off and she clutched her plush pink robe tighter in comfort.

"Saw what?" Randall feigned, still acting natural. He didn't look around to see where she was; only prayed she wasn't here. _Oh, please be gone Suzie…_ With one hand behind his back, he signaled for Rex to back him up.

"Yeah, Naomi, are you OK?"

The whole incident had left her uneasy. She took a long, deep, steady breath. "N—nevermind. It…must've been a dream. Or a nightmare, more like…" She shook her head and rubbed her temples as if indeed recovering from a bad dream. "Geez, that was freaky. I gotta get some more sleep…"

"Want me to go make you some hot chocolate? That always helps me sleep. And it's yummy, too!" Rex immediately took her clawed hand to pull her to her feet. The boy gave a quick wink to his uncle; a silent promise to cover up the secret of the ghost. "C'mon! Uncle Randy showed me how to make it. It's really, really nice."

"Uh, yeah…hot chocolate. Sure, Rex…sounds good." Naomi stayed in a mild state of shock as she was led back inside. She glanced over her shoulder several times…No. The whole thing had only been a bad dream. Or perhaps a trick of the light. Or maybe a bit of both. Plus, it had been a long day. For whatever reason she'd fainted, it was quite an unpleasant way to end her birthday.

Randall followed slowly, scanning the entire balcony to be sure the ghost was gone. There was no Suzie in sight. _Whew…at least Rex knows how to fix a tense situation. Thank goodness that's over. And please…don't show up around here again, Suzie. Wherever you've disappeared to._

…

Once Naomi and Rex were settled in the house's old-fashioned kitchen, and the smell of hot chocolate was wafting about, Randall retreated back upstairs. He had a weird feeling that Suzie was still here…he just _knew_. He could always sense when she was around. There was a bizarre feeling in the air, and the feeling was still as strong as ever.

He squinted into the darkness of every hall along the way, but saw nothing unusual. He was ready to call it a night; after the fiasco on the roof, exhaustion was starting to take over. He was only a step into his room when the vision materialized right in front of him.

"Ah!" he jumped invisible on reflex. "Nice entrance. The dark shadows really make you look extra-creepy." He frowned with sarcasm as he reappeared.

Suzie's gaze was towards the floor sheepishly with her hands wringing. It was the perfect imitation of a kid who had gotten into trouble and didn't know how to apologize.

Randall sighed. He might as well make an apology, too. "Look, uh…sorry for losing my temper back there. But thanks for going incognito. Trust me, it'll make things easier for us all…You OK?"

"Not really." She confessed. There was a large mirror on one wall of the room. She took a step closer to it only to discover she had no reflection. "My whole being here and everything that's happening—not talking to them, not letting them see me—just reminds me that I'm _not_ supposed to be here. I recently visited my own grave at the Phanes Cemetary. My own grave! Who does that?!"

"You'll move on eventually." Randall did his best to sound comforting, but it didn't come out sounding very reassuring. This girl was in a crisis, and she was his friend, not to mention on the verge of tears. He went to put a hand on her shoulder. This was also, in fact, the first time seeing if the vision was solid or not…he hand passed right through like nothing was there. There wasn't even a chill in the air, as he half-expected there to be like in traditional ghost stories.

"I hate this." said Suzie, not even feeling the hand go through her shoulder. "Being—you know, gone. I'm only nineteen! This doesn't seem right. And Becca is still bordering on stage three, I think. I can't leave you guys now, of all times."

"Stage three?"

"You know, the five stages of grief? Every monster goes through them at varying paces after a loss. Stage three is 'bargaining,'" she explained, her bookworm mind reciting straight out of a textbook. "I read all about them in high school. Big Sister's mindset right now is to find _anything_ to be glad about, no matter what that is, to try and drown out everything else. Naming that comet after me was pretty cool, I'll admit, but I can't tell if it was a turning point or not…"

Randall racked his brain for the 'Five Stages of Greif.' Sam had mentioned them at some point…denial, anger, bargaining, and such. He thought about Becca's improved behavior from the last several months, and it all seemed to fit Suzie's hypothesis. "I guess it's different for everybody, how long each stage lasts…but it's progress, at least."

"Yeah." Suzie was at the window, staring at the starry sky through the trees. She was ready to call it a night, too, for she began walking towards the door, as if to open it and leave. But Randall knew better; the vision would just blink away as always. She turned at the last moment. "It's late. Think we can talk about it some other day?"

"Only if you swear to keep out of the way and out of sight from now on."

"Well…Can't make any permanent promises, but OK. It'll just be you and Rex for now." There was still a hint of mischievousness in her voice.

"Good enough." Randall groaned.

"Oh!" she spun around with a congratulatory smile. "I forgot to say congrats on that new door station thingamajig. If the whole factory is going to be outfitted, you've gotta be pretty proud!"

"Not to sound conceited, but yes. I am." He smiled. "But seriously, I'm trying not to brag. Going back to my old ways is not the way to prove I've changed for the better."

"Good for you. Well, 'night! Get some sleep and convince Bernard and Naomi they've only been seeing things while you're at it."

On Randall's next blink, she was gone. He collapsed onto his bed, tired of all the stress and confusion. And of all the problems that kept arising that _he_ always seemed to end up dealing with. _Great. Another chore to do. I'm running out of patience for this…Didn't even have much patience to begin with._

…

The following morning was a bit tense. At breakfast-time, the whole party was seated around the old-fashioned wood dining table of the kitchen. Zachariah was in a great mood. The discovery of his comet was going to be officially announced later today, so he was very happy and chatty. 'Suzanne's Comet' gave Becca the most elated feeling…her sister's name was going to go down in history! But she and Zach were the only monsters with lifted spirits that morning. As he ate, Randall acted normal while surveying the group's moods to try and look for any trouble.

Bernard was still on his daily pain meds. He hadn't said a single word to Randall regarding the ghostly visions ever since that day in his living room. The man was being very quiet, just listening to breakfast conversation and adding to it from time to time. But he kept gazing around the room with sharp eyes. As if he expected a guest to show up. One that was unwanted...

Rex and Sam were arguing about whether or not he could ride in the front seat of the van for the trip home. "But Dad, I'm gonna be five pretty soon! That's big enough to sit up front, right?"

"Sorry, son. Not for a couple more years." Sam kept insisting as he wiped moldy yogurt from Rex's cheek.

"Years?! But five is big enough, isn't it?"

Of course with the scare of her life last night, Naomi was very jumpy as she poked at her fish-guts-covered toast. She flinched a little whenever someone spoke to her. There were dark circles under her eyes, as if she had barely slept. "Sorry…" she explained upon Bernard asking if anything was wrong. "Had a bad nightmare, and it was, like, the most disturbing thing _ever_! I kept waking up the rest of the night."

"What was it about?" Becca asked.

Randall held his breath in fear. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it…Please don't say it!_ If Naomi told of a dead image of Suzie, there was sure to be a fight.

"To tell the truth, I don't really remember." said Naomi, rubbing her temple. "But it was pretty grim, I can tell you that."

She was either fibbing, knowing Becca wouldn't like the true answer, or had blocked out the memory of Suzie entirely…Or maybe Suzie had erased her memory somehow? _Nah. That's a bit of a stretch._ Randall thought it a stroke of luck, whatever was going on. _Either way, I'm not complaining._

…

The following three weeks were busy ones.

With the enmity between him and his father patched up, Randall was able to focus on other things without a guilty conscience. There was a lot to be done before the factory was outfitted with his station design. He spent his allotted time in the workshop going over blueprints and perfecting any minor flaws in the new system. The prototype had to be _perfect._ (Fungus lent a hand sometimes, but was more of a hindrance then a help.) The rest of a work day usually consisted of assorted maintenance tasks around the factory. Very routine chores that nobody but the maintenance crew did: fixing the old rickety stations, organizing the door vault, waxing the Scare and Laugh floors, polishing windows, cleaning toilets…ugh. None of it was exactly thrilling, but Randall didn't mind. For one thing, monsters all throughout the factory were treating him differently. It was becoming more noticeable each day. Fellow coworkers were saying 'good morning' or 'hello,' and being nicer towards him in general. At first, Randall wasn't sure why, but the reason quickly came to him.

The gleaming, futuristic, silver-chrome door station prototype remained on Scare Floor A. If any more CDA agents or other bigwigs came to see it, Randall would be ready for another demonstration. Feedback of the new invention was quite positive by now; not only from Sullivan, but from _everybody_. It was almost normal for Randall to be stopped in the middle of a hallway by random monsters to answer questions about the invention. (This was very annoying, and he had resorted to ditching his tool vest and hardhat to disappear.) By sneaking around unseen, he often eavesdropped on others…and learned that all those rumors about him and stopped. A few months ago, a lot of monsters had wondered if this engineering project was just another power-hungry scheme like he'd done in the past…well, no more.

All the Scarers, Laughers, and managers alike now understood what was going on: Randall Boggs was redeeming himself. It was far more apparent to them that the sneaky, once-untrustworthy lizard was trying to do something good. His old impatient attitude was still there. He wasn't very social, either, and didn't like anyone telling him what to do. But his temper had improved a little, and he just seemed, well, _happier._ (Although he was good at hiding it most of the time.)

Aside from all the impending excitement, everything at Monsters, Inc. was normal. If one could call it normal with Laughers cracking jokes and performing circus acts. Randall preferred the seriousness of a Scare Floor any day.

"…but I wish all your weirdo friends would leave me alone," Randall was saying to Mike Wazowski late one afternoon. "They're asking me so many questions about that prototype that I can't get any work done!"

"The hype will die down. Just wait." Mike replied. He himself was very popular amongst the Laughers; they all looked to him for advice on jokes of the day. "I'll have a word with them later, and get them to back off, if you want."

They were in the freshly-polished foyer, just talking and catching up. This was almost becoming a routine: Mike would stop to chat for a while if they ran into each other in the halls. Randall was busy hanging the 'Laugher' and 'Scarer' of the Month pictures, newly framed. Many of which were photos of Wazowski with a big, toothy grin.

The green monster in question paused the conversation to wave over at the snake-haired receptionist and blow her a kiss. Randall rolled his eyes at Mike's stupid love-sick expression and went on. "Thanks. All this attention is annoying. If I didn't have to wear this dumb vest, I swear I'd just stay camouflaged all day."

"Hey, I thought you reveled in attention. What about when you and Sulley were neck and neck for the old Scare record?" Mike reminded.

" _You_ try spending a few years in exile. It does things to you." Randall didn't want to admit that he simply wasn't _used_ to being recognized for something positive. He never realized until now how much pressure it could be, having all eyes judge you. "Maybe another disguise is in order…"

"Ha! That won't work; it'll never fool anyone."

"It fooled you, so I beg to differ." Randall smirked with a chuckle.

"Oh, yeah…" Mike remembered the red-scaled, French-accent disguise back in spring. The getup had been very convincing. "Well, there's no point hiding, you know. This whole thing about the factory getting renovated is all monsters can talk about! Sulley's been so busy dealin' with agents that I've barely seen him out of the office these last three weeks. You're the mastermind behind this new machine, so what's the word?" He asked with curiosity. "When is it all going to happen?"

"Nothing solid, yet. I'm supposed to demonstrate the prototype again to more hotshots, but all being well, the design will go into production by winter."

"Finally! A guesstimate to tell the guys on the Laugh Floors!" Mike said. "Then maybe Sulley can take some time off. Guy's been working far too hard."

"Uh, huh." Randall hummed, not caring about the big blue idiot's well-being. Hammering another nail into the wall, Randall did not point out that _he_ was the one who'd done all the tinkering, planning, and juggling it all between helping his own friends with their assorted problems.

"By the way, how's Bernard doing with that leg? Or—without that leg, I mean?" Mike asked.

"Stitches are out and it's healed up nicely. He's not in a rush to get a prosthetic, though, since there's still a bit of phantom pain." _Phantom. Hmph…I haven't seen one particular phantom since visiting Dad._ He wondered, scanning the foyer out of habit to see if she was around. It had been ages since she'd appeared. Not since that night on the rooftop balcony when he'd ordered her to leave the gang alone. He wasn't exactly worried about her, per say…but he'd never gone this long without catching a glimpse of the ghost. Rex hadn't seen her, either. _I wonder where she is…_

Randall hoped this would be the end of their hallway chat. The disdain between him and Mike Wazowski was patched up…Sort of. Over the last few months, he had truly made an effort to be at least act civil towards his fellow monsters. Hell, he and Mike had been friends a long time ago! Randall doubted things would ever be that way again. But Mike's wise-cracking and chipper attitude was cutting into his schedule. The guy went on. "And I hear Naomi Jackson is becoming quite the chef! Celia and I ran into her at the pancake house. You know, I will never figure out how you all became friends—"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Wazowski?"

"Nah, I got a few minutes," Mike failed to clue in. "So anyway, while Schmoopsie-poo and I were there, enjoying the breakfast platter for two, Naomi told us all about the weekend at your father's place—nice name for the comet, by the way—and she brought up the weirdest thing,—"

"Mike—" Randall knew where this was going.

"—asking us all sorts of questions about you and McKeen, both here in the factory. Now I'm not one to gossip, but—YEOW!" He yelped with the single eye bulging wide in pain, as a picture frame 'fell over' onto his foot.

 _No one can ever take a hint._ Randall picked it up and placed it back onto the cart. "Don't accuse me of anything so stupid. I really hate it when rumors fly out of control." He warned quietly, but as non-threating as possible. He'd have to have a serious talk with Naomi about her gossiping.

"Alright, alright," Mike hopped on one foot while clutching the other in pain. "Boy, there's nothing to blow your top over, Randall. You outta learn to lighten up once in a while! Like me. I sure didn't becoming the top Laugher by being serious all the time. Learn how to take a joke!"

"I don't think so." Randall retained a dead-pan expression as a group of Laughers came by, holding helium-filled balloons and talking in chipmunk voices. "With the way things are around here, someone has to stay serious." He packed up the hammer and nails and placed them in the toolbox. "There are more chores to be done before quitting time, so I'll see you later."

Mike glanced at the giant digital clock on the wall. There was still an hour left. He became quite cheerful at the thought of having more time to make some children laugh. "Hm. Just enough time to try that new stand-up material. Those kids won't know what hit them!"

Just as they were about to part ways, both monsters paused when Jeffery Fungus skidded across the waxed floor, running in their direction at top speed. There was a very alarmed look on his face as he rushed over. "Sir! Sir! Something very bad has ha—"

"I told you a hundred times already: You don't have to call me that. 'Randall' is fine—"

"No time!" The red monster blathered on hysterically. "There's something bad going on and I have no idea what to do, so I just ran around to find you, since the place is your workshop, after all, and—"

"Fungus! Chill out and breathe," Mike cut in. "What happened?"

Fungus said to Randall urgently in a hushed voice. "Emergency in the workshop! Come quick!" And without waiting for a response, he immediately began running back the way he'd come.

"Great. Now what's gone wrong?" Randall mumbled. He left the maintenance cart where it was and hurried after him.

Mike was equally concerned and came, too. The new stand-up routine would just have to wait.

Everyone knew Fungus to be a worrywart and very babbling and nervous even on normal days. But this sounded serious. Thankfully, no one else in the foyer had heard. There were too many phone calls, announcements, and other conversations going on for anyone to pay the trio much heed. They wove through throngs of monsters, down several more hallways. Mike was jogging along comically, while Randall scurried on all eights around every corner. Fungus stayed in the lead, breathing hard with nerves. "What to do, what to do…"

"If anything happened to those blueprints, I'll personally tear you to pieces, Fungus!" Randall said when they reached the hidden workshop. Their footsteps echoed off the dim pipe-lined passageway. "Did someone break in?"

"No! I swear I had nothing to do with it! I just came in and found it there!" He pointed at the lone door station set up in the room. An old one—nicely modified by Randall—with a carved, wooden door clamped in place. It was online. Fungus motioned with flailing arms. "The note said not to take it offline, and I'm sure not going out there to find her—"

"Note? What note?" Mike asked. He recognized the door as one from the workshop's private stash; old banishment doors that only led out into the wilderness of the Human World. Randall and the gang often used them to just head out there from time to time to hang out. (The reason why they did this was anyone's guess, but Mike supposed a monster got used to the wilds after being banished.)

Ignoring Fungus' ranting, Mike and Randall saw a piece of paper taped on the door…written in Becca's handwriting.

A mild stab of fear pierced Randall's heart. He did not express any emotion as he snatched the note. Wazowski yanked his wrist lower so as able to read it, too: _Dear Anyone, KEEP THIS DOOR ONLINE! I'm in here! Needed a good way to end the day and this seemed perfect. Don't go snitching on me, or I'll pound ya. Maybe. (Fungus, this means you.) –Becca._

Randall immediately questioned Fungus. "You didn't go after her?"

"Of course not! I never saw her, and it said not to snitch, but I sure can't let this go! But I'm sure not heading into alien lands just to get eaten by something, or spotted by humans. Going out there without anyone monitoring the station is really dangerous, so I freaked out! Has she ever gone out there alone before?"

"Shut up and quit panicking." Randall snapped. Fungus was on the verge of a full-on panic attack, the way he was fumbling with his three-lensed glasses. "How long has this thing been online?"

"No idea."

"Ugh! Fungus, you never do anything right." He groaned. Because of Fungus' cowardice, one of his best friends could now be in trouble! _This couldn't be Suzie's premonition, could it? She said 'something bad' was going to happen soon…_ He shoved that thought aside. "Why the hell didn't you go after her?"

"This couldn't be another suicide note, could it?" Mike wondered, holding the paper.

"Uh…" _Geez, I sure hope not. Once was enough._ Randall read over the note again; the words were slightly cryptic…flashbacks from that stormy day on Bernard's rooftop came rushing back. That had been a terrible time. And it had almost been too late…"We can't take a chance. You two stay here and watch the controls. I can track her."

"Alone?" asked Mike. "Wouldn't it be better with a search party?"

At first, Randall almost responded with 'Does anyone else around here know how to headlock an alligator?' But he quickly reconsidered. There couldn't be a repeat of last time…With help, Becca might be found faster. "Good idea. C'mon, you're coming too."

Mike flinched in surprise. "Me? But—" The last time he had been out in the wilderness of the Human World was when Randall had given a tour of that awful, gator-infested swamp. It had been an eye-opening day, learning just what a banished monster had to deal with on a daily basis. A frozen, icy wasteland was one thing; a dangerous, gator-infested swamp was far worse. "I don't think—"

"Don't argue, and just _come on._ We'll find her faster with two." Randall took off his tool vest and hardhat, before blending his scales to a dark, mottled green for camouflage. "If Becca is hinting at some other suicide move…I don't even want to think about it. So let's get moving! Fungus, wait here and don't leave this room until we're back."

That statement didn't reassure the quivering monster. "With or without her?" Fungus paced around in a circle.

With a hesitant Mike stepping forward, Randall opened the portal to a smell of fresh air, mud, and a recent rainfall. On a normal day, the smells of the swamps were welcoming. But not now. He answered determinedly, "With." They went through the door without another moment's delay. _At least, I hope so._

 **Cliffhanger. Oh yeah! Time to get back into writing! Thank you readers for your patience and support! :) Next part will be up (hopefully) sometime next week.**


	21. Waiting Games and One Annoying Ghost

**Whew! That took a while. My new job is going very nicely and life is good. :) Here's one super-long chapter for your enjoyment! Picking up right where we left off. :) Sorry for the wait, but I was just having so much fun with it, that it became 3 times longer then it was supposed to be. lol.**

 **Anyway, we have Mike getting dragging into a rescue mission against his will, and things go very awry. At the same time, Ghost Suzie reappears after a short absence to drive Randall crazy and make his life even more difficult. This chapter turned out to be tons of fun! So have fun reading!**

Chapter Twenty: Waiting Games and One Annoying Ghost

Stepping through a door portal always felt like taking a step into a second home, no matter where the gang wanted to visit. But a sense of home was especially here in the swamplands. Randall was so familiar with the place that he scampered through the door on all eights without a moment to spare. Because of the time difference between dimensions, it was nighttime here in the wilderness. It had rained recently; the scent of it hung thick in the air and the grass was damp with dew. It was also cloudy tonight. Despite the darkness, the earth and moss-draped trees were still outlined by the subtle glow of fireflies and what little moonlight shone through the overcast sky.

Mike Wazowski held the doorknob and only half-stepped onto the grass at first. What struck him suddenly were all the sounds of the Louisiana swamps. Frogs croaked in chorus, nocturnal birds called out, and a lot of crickets could be heard. What also struck him was the warmer climate here. It was so warm that it felt like summer again, quite a pleasant surprise after the chill of autumn back home.

"Huh. Noisier out here than I expected." Mike commented, fully stepping onto the mossy ground with hesitance. He gazed around at the dark outlines of the foreign trees, wondering what animals lived out here. Reading about the wildlife of the Human World was one thing; actually coming face-to-face with it was completely different.

"No time for sightseeing, Wazowski. C'mon; help me look around." Randall immediately began scouring the area for any sign of Becca's whereabouts. The warm air was giving his cold-blooded-self more energy by the minute.

"Right. Coming!" Mike followed, closing the door behind him. This was an important task at hand. McKeen's note was cryptic, but too serious to be ignored. (The last sight of the Monster World was Fungus, pacing back and forth frantically in the workshop, still muttering in fear.) The one-eyed cyclops looked around all across the grass, unsure what to be searching for. "Uh…"

Randall sighed impatiently. "Here, see the imprints on the moss? And here, this branch is snapped, and it's about the same height as her shoulder. She came this way for sure. So let's get moving." There was a running stream nearby. Becca never went far from a water source, hence her part-aquatic nature. She had to have gone in that direction. So he took the lead and headed off, still staying low on all eights for speed.

Mike jogged along comically, taking wide strides with arms flailing in time. When they reached the trees, a breeze blew a heavy curtain of moss into his eye. "Ow!" He pushed it aside. Then it happened again. And again. "Ow!…Ow!" Then he stepped on a particularly jagged stone. "Yeow!"

Randall held back to wait for him to catch up, leaning against a tree with every arm crossed in impatience. "Seriously? We'll never get anywhere at this rate."

"Sorry." Mike hopped over on one foot, clutching the other one. "I'm really more of a behind-the-scene kind of guy; not a backwoods gung-ho tracker. But I'll do my best! So, what else should we be looking for?"

"Keep looking for three-toed footprints—check the moss and mud near the banks—also broken twigs, leaves scattered on the ground, any of them close to the water. Whenever the gang stayed in swamplands, she never went far from a water source. And don't bother with animal tracks if you see them, but if it looks predatory, say so, alright?"

Mike baffled at all these little details. "Oh boy, this is like being a detective. Maybe I should have brought a magnifying glass?" He half-joked to try and lighten the situation.

"Don't even think about joking at a time like this, Wazowski." Randall saw the stream widened into a large pond up ahead. Becca's trail had disappeared, but he was sure she had come this way; perhaps into the water for a faster way across. With the far side of the pond in view, it wouldn't take long to pick up the trail. He instructed his reluctant recruit, "You search the left side, I'll take the right. Try to find more tracks, got it? We'll regroup on the other side and go from there."

"Send a comedian to do a hunter's job…" Mike mumbled, wondering how he had gotten roped into this. Randall scurried off into the brush. Before he completely vanished from view, the lizard paused to search the surroundings in hopes of finding more signs. He wore a strange expression, so unfamiliar that it took a while to pinpoint before Mike realized: Randall was _afraid_.

Now, Mike had known Randall for ages, and had _never_ seen him act like this. "Boy, he's really losin' his mind. And for someone else' sake, no less. Weird…" He snapped back to the task at hand. "OK, time to stay focused, Mike! What if that _was_ a suicide note McKeen wrote?...Ow!"A low branch poked him in the eye.

Mike paced himself along the bank, keeping a close watch for any signs that a monster had come through here. He was far from accustomed to this kind of work. Flies bit him a couple of times. There came a frightening moment when a loud hiss was heard from the bushes, making him jump in alarm as a snake crossed his path. It was a huge, thick creature that seemed to glare with evil, glowing eyes before slithering away. "Geez, someone could've warned me about all this earlier…wonder what else is lurking around here?" Mike went on a bit more warily, now…

Once at the pond's opposite shore, Mike finally found something: footprints with three toes, like Becca's, with a strange long track between them, like a dragging tail. They seemed to be leading down into the water…not good. What if Becca had drowned herself?! Wait, no…she had gills. She wasn't even capable of drowning. Still, Mike saw Randall not too far off, and waved him over. "Hey! Randall! Is this a track?"

The lizard, still camouflaged in dark green scales, shook his head. "Nah. They have claws on them. Looks more like a snapping turtle."

"A what?" Mike asked. He was pretty educated on the Human World and its fauna, but this sounded new. "I know what a turtle is, but what the heck is a _snapping_ turtle?"

"A really big turtle that'll bite your toes off if you get too close."

"That's…nice." Mike took a few steps back from the water. "This place has some weird things living in it. Why didn't they teach us more in college?"

"They did. You and Sullivan got expelled early-on. Plus, I doubt teachers expected students to go traipsing around in the wilds on rescue missions!" Randall pointed out.

They continued for a while longer. Becca's trail was picked up eventually; it was hard to see on this dark and cloudy night. Randall found more disturbed foliage and even a few more footprints. She seemed to be have changed direction, now. From the gang's experience in these swamps, he knew this area well, and had an idea of where she had gone. She was either heading to their old campsite, deep in the thick of the moss-covered trees, or out to the big lagoon that was infested with alligators. But her trail disappeared again, leaving Randall uncertain where to go.

"We'll have to split up again." He said worriedly.

"Oof!...Ow. Ow!" Mike caught up, struggling not to get stuck in a particularly thick patch of bushes. He emerged with many thorn scratches. "OK, then. Uh…which way?" Before them lay a slow-moving stream that flowed out to the lagoon. It wasn't too far; Mike could even glimpse it from here. Upstream, in the opposite direction, were dark, foreboding trees that were a lot more ominous. He really didn't want to head that way. In the pitch-black undergrowth any strange creatures might be lurking. At least out on the riverbanks, Mike knew what to avoid. "Alrightly. I'll go this way, then." He began heading off downstream.

"Mike, that leads to the—"

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. We have to find her quickly, right? 'Sides, I know what signs to look for, now, and can see the water from here."

"This isn't some glory and honor mission just so you can impress your girlfriend, Wazowski…" Randall frowned, but Mike had already jogged out of earshot. "Fine. Learn about the alligators the hard way." The old campsite wasn't too far, anyway. There was plenty of time to check the trees before turning around to catch up. His scales were still a mottled dark green to match the foliage. But as a precaution, he blended into thin air entirely, just to be on the safe side, before scampering off into the swamp forest.

…

"Yuck…" Mike complained when he tripped, only to be met with a splattering of mud. "I'm really not built for the swamps…OK. Don't dawdle, Mike! You're on an important mission. Who knows if that note was legit or not? Maybe she just wanted to come out here for some fresh air." Trying to believe those words was impossible, though. "Nah. Randall knows her too well. If he thinks it's worth checking out, I ain't gonna stop him from saving a life…Hm. Funny; this could be the second time he's done it. What a tale that will be to tell around the factory."

Mike made it too the mouth of the lagoon and strolled around for a bit, trying to find more signs of life with little success. He got upset at finding nothing. "Well, this is great. Now what? I wonder how those guys do it? Even the Jackson girl can track, and she's the last monster one would ever expect to be wandering around in a swamp, with no technology whatsoever—" He threw his hands in the air in frustration, staring at the dark sky. "What is this world coming to—oh!" There came an unexpected sight.

Scarcely twenty feet away was a tree right by the lagoon's edge. It was very, very tall, with old, twisted branches that jutted out over the water for quite a ways. Elegant curtains of moss decorated the whole thing. So many that Mike may have missed the sight which had grabbed his attention. It was through sheer luck that he had spotted it, anyway.

A silhouette was perched on the very end of the highest branch. Like someone had climbed all the way up just to have a seat and look around. It was Rebecca McKeen, just sitting there in the tree. With alarm, Mike realized the lagoon had masses of funny-looking logs floating in it…logs with bright, staring eyes. And there were _a lot_ of them. He didn't dare go any closer to the water's edge.

"Uh oh." Mike realized what was happening. "Hey! McKeen!" He called frantically. She was so close to the end of the twisted branch that she was in danger of falling off. He didn't what to do. The silhouette turned to stare down at him, and he kept talking to stall. "Um…Hi! How's the view up there? I heard that alligators can leap out of the water; is that true?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" The silhouette called back, sounding ticking off. "If you're trying to be funny, cut it out. I came out here to be _alone_. So if you don't mind, I've got a lot of thinking to do…"

"Alone, huh? Well…what was that note all about?"

"Just go away. Don't even bother trying to drag me back." She turned away to face the still water of the lagoon. The infestation of alligators below seemed to be eyeing her…hoping for a moment when she'd lose her balance.

Mike slipped on the dewy grass. One of the scaly logs then turned in curiosity…Mike backed up in alarm. There was no way to get closer to the tree's base without drawing unwanted attention. How did McKeen even get up there? "So, uh…how long do you plan on staying? I could send for some take-out; no use jumping from there on an empty stomach…" When Becca did not respond, Mike bit his sharp fingernails in panic. He glanced behind him, hoping that Randall would show up on cue.

It was several minutes before he did. Mike dashed over and explained what was going on. "Thank the heavens you're here! She won't come down," Mike pointed up at the silhouette. "Can you do something? The gators are growing restless…"

The alligators crowding the water stirred, but did not hiss or act aggressive. They were simply biding their time; waiting for something to happen…as if they knew something was amiss.

Randall caught his breath, having been running upon seeing Wazowski from a distance. (The round cyclops stood out like a sore thumb in the swamp.) "Chill." Randall said in a loud whisper, staying calm. "Panicking is not going to help. I'm going up there. Keep an eye on the gators, would you?" He then made a running jump for a branch and started climbing.

"Uh…that actually sounds like a good time for panicking." Mike squinted out across the water. So he armed himself with a stick and kept watch.

Randall climbed the tree up to the high branch where Becca was perched. It was a very notorious position to be in…she was in obvious danger of falling. This potential suicide was a lot more creative then jumping off Bernard's rooftop. The gators below numbered in the several dozen…Randall didn't want to risk breaking the branch. So he got comfortable back near the trunk. _Great. A flimsy branch, and a swarm of gators below. How do I fix this?_ It was a twenty-five foot drop into water; not really that far to fall…But with a swarm of gators waiting at the bottom? Well, that was different. He cleared his throat to grab Becca's attention. "Hey."

"Hey." She half-turned, not moving.

Through the dim light, Randall saw she looked tired. Not as distraught as last time. Maybe talking her down would be easier. "Fungus found your note and came and got me. He's probably still pacing around the workshop, waiting."

"Ugh. I specifically wrote _not_ to come after me! Can no one read? I was going to come back…"

"Were you?" Randall raised a brow, able to tell that was a lie.

"Well…maybe…" Becca gazed down at the water again.

"The note was a bit cryptic, to say the least. I even got Wazowski to come out here to help. Not the best choice, but it was short notice. What are you doing out here, really?" Randall asked with trepidation. "Coming out here alone, and with nobody watching the station on the other side, isn't like you at all.

"Well, I…"

"Tell me it's not what I think it is. Becca, you tried this before and I thought it was settled. So quit being all defensive and _talk_. Why'd you sneak way out here just to 'climb a tree and think'? Were you planning on jumping into the fray?" He gestured to the swarm below. A gator stirred every few minutes, along with shouts from Wazowski, who seemed to be trying to scare them off.

"Well…the thought had occurred." Becca admitted. "It really wouldn't be that hard…just one move and that's it."

"That's what you said last time. On the contrary, feeding yourself to the alligators would be a nasty way to go. Just one of those things is tough enough to wrestle. Believe me, I know. So that's why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you."

She was surprised. "You wouldn't."

"Yes I would. You don't want to be responsible for getting both of us killed, do you?"

She scowled. "Quit being so heroic and just let me figure things out. If I'd only had five more minutes to think, I could've decided—"

"Don't talk like that! We're not having this conversation _again_ ," he was about to launch into an unrehearsed speech, anything to talk some sense into her, when something odd caught his eye. From where he was perched, there was a clear view of the ground. Wazowski was visible, patroling the tall grass and holding a stick like some sort of guard. And also standing in the grass was…Suzie.

The ghost girl had been absent for three weeks. Now there she was, _out of the blue_ , staring up into the tree and waiting to see what would happen.

Randall blinked a few times to be sure she wouldn't disappear. She didn't. She was just standing there, hugging herself in worry. A little bit of moonlight had emerged from the clouds to glint off the golden speckles on her royal blue scales; that was the only way Randall had been able to see her. The girl's injuries were looking bad again, thanks to her sister's emotional turmoil.

Wazowski heard something scuttle through the foliage and spun around in alarm in case it attacked. He directly faced the ghost when he did this…but of course saw nothing. Suzie barely moved from her spot when Wazowski lunged forward into the grass; he passed right through her, being the phantom she was. She kept staring up into the tree, braiding her feelers and biting her lip.

Out of habit, Randall nearly called down to ask what she was doing here. But held his tongue.

After three weeks of staying out of sight, _now_ she decided to show up? If this was the 'terrible premonition' she'd warned him about, why hadn't she come to warn him sooner? He came up with a radical impulse. Perhaps there was a way to make the best of this situation. He turned back to Becca, unsure how to put the words into motion. _What to do, What to do…I can't just ask 'Do you believe in ghosts?'_ So with greatest caution, he reworded it differently. "Listen…Do you believe Suzie's watching you every now and then?"

"Of course." She replied with honesty. "I believe she's moved on to be with my parents…but I guess she could come back to visit sometimes. This may sound weird—so don't laugh or I'll give you a good punch—but every once in a while, I get this feeling this I'm being…well, _watched_. Maybe I'm just thinking about her too much. I still have a lot of sad days, you know."

"Think of it this way, then: if she really is checking in on you once in a while, do you honestly think your sister would _want_ to see you kill yourself?"

Becca frowned down at the infested waters. "…No…" It was a no-brainer. Her shoulders relaxed and she finally turned to look him in the eyes. "This is just like that chat on Bernard's roof. That wasn't a good day."

"Then let's not have a repeat. Got it?" he said in the blunt way they so often talked to each other. It grabbed Becca's attention further and he went on. "The Brennens, Naomi, Rex, my brother, Me—We all hate seeing you like this and don't want anything bad to happen. The gang has already been through enough…" he waved a hand down at the swarm of alligators. (Wazowski's shouts of 'animalistic dominance' still didn't seem to be scaring them off.) Randall talked for a while, taking time to point out that everyone in their gang of survivors had lost someone close to them in the past: he and Samuel had lost their mother when they were teens, Naomi's father was long gone, and Bernard was a widower of many years. These stories seemed to have a profound effect on Becca. She listened with rapt attention, now, never realizing that all of her closest friends had experienced loss as well. "…so trust us." Randall finished up. "Things will get better. Stage four will be over before you know it."

"Stage Four?"

"Sam mentioned them; the stages of grief? Stage four just happens to be 'depression.' Anyone who knows you would say you're pretty deep in it."

"Right." Becca nodded. "…I guess I'll come down, then. No sense making things worse, after that little speech." She crawled along the branch, causing the moss to waver in the breeze.

From below there came a sudden snarl and a hiss. Something big had leapt out of the water! It splashed back down, startling and riling up many of the other alligators. The swarm was growing more restless and hungry by the second.

"AHH!" Mike Wazowski screamed. He called up into the tree, "Anytime, now, you guys! There are a lot of carnivores lookin' at me! Like I'm some kind of appetizer!"

The one angry gator made a full-blown lunge onto the shore towards him. "Whoa! Back! Back!" It did not listen and crawled forward on stumpy, clawed legs. Mike kept waving the stick around like a sword. But the gator only snapped and started to give chase. Mike leaped backwards an impressive distance and ran for it. "Whoa! Help!"

Randall and Becca inched down one branch at a time. Mike's screams were loud, and at first Randall was worried. But Becca saw that there was no danger and held him back. "There's no rush; let's watch for a bit."

Suzie was directly below by the trunk to give a thumbs-up. "I'd offer popcorn."

Randall raised a brow at Suzie's remark. So they all watched with much amusement as Mike ran around with his stick-sword. He wasn't in any immediate danger; the alligator may be big, but was also very slow. Mike could outrun it, no problem. But he didn't seem to realize this and kept on trying to jump into nearby trees to escape. "Hey, guys! Are you gonna help me out of this? This thing is trying to get me!"

"You're doing fine." Randall called over. "Pace yourself."

The vision of Suzie was doubled over in laughter. Mike scrambled up a tree with low-hanging branches; just low enough for him to reach and climbed about a dozen feet. Now he was cornered there with the gator hissing below. The creature's mouth was open to reveal rows of sharp teeth, all more than ready to make a meal of the green cyclops. "Back! Back, you beast!" he brandished the weapon. "Or I shall pierce your gullet with this…stick."

The others watched for another minute, stifling laughter. "OK. Now you really should go help him." Becca soon advised, touching Randall's shoulder to egg him on.

"Yeah." He leapt down and blended away into an invisible state. Alligators always gave up after a while, but Mike wouldn't have any way of knowing that. Being cornered in a tree would only raise his fear.

Randall slinked across the way unseen until he was directly beside the predator. Over the course of his banishment days, he had learned that many animals had a heightened sense of awareness, such as deer and rabbits, so most prey animals were hard to sneak up on. But with this monstrosity being an apex predator, the situation was different. A full-grown alligator would hardly expect to get attacked.

Killing it wasn't necessary. It only had to be persuaded back into the water. The tall grass rustled as Randall crept closer…the gator didn't seem to pay attention. It was too focused on its cornered prey, staring up at the strange round green creature that certainly looked tasty. In an instant, Randall wrapped his body around the gator, snake-like; he was still strong and able to control it easily. The alligator hissed in surprise and tried snapping at whatever had grabbed him.

"Ahh! Mad Gator!" Mike exclaimed, and started throwing chunks of bark from the tree.

"Wazowski, it's me!" Randall materialized into view. With two free arms and two free legs, he began dragging it away, back towards the lagoon. The gator struggled the entire time, snapping, hissing, fighting back, but was kept under control. Randall got a few scratches; nothing major. He didn't stop dragging the beast until reaching the bank of the water. The alligator was then released—practically tossed—onto the moss with a snarl. Rows of carnivorous teeth glinted menacingly in the moonlight for a second. Randall stared right back with unwavering fierceness and hissed right back. The tense stand-off didn't last long. Slowly and with reluctance, the alligator slinked back into the water to rejoin its comrades. So much for an easy meal…

Randall was left breathless from the effort. Good thing he often came out here to practice. His gator-wrestling skills had yet to get rusty. Becca gave a few claps of applause. He reached out a hand to help her down out from the tree, to which she accepted without the usual resistance.

"Geez! What kind of place is this? And you all called this 'home' for how long, exactly?" Mike recovered from the shock and hopped down from the other tree. "Never mind, don't answer that. I'm not sure I _want_ know what you guys faced on a daily basis out here."

Randall—wet and muddy from the gator takedown—and Becca, joined him a safe distance away from the living logs still eyeing them from the water. Mike was relieved that McKeen was alright. And also relieved that nobody had gotten eaten—himself included. "Whew! I'd say mission accomplished. So, are you OK, McKeen? Are we all good? 'Cause we really should get away from this place."

"I'm fine. I think." Becca then asked something that had been on her mind for the past several minutes. "How did you end up in this 'rescue mission,' anyway?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure." Mike shrugged.

Randall noticed that Suzie had vanished within the last minute. He subtly scanned the surroundings—across the grass, between the trees, and even _in_ the trees—but she had disappeared. _That won't last long…_

The trio slowly made their way back through the swamp. Back to where the lone door was waiting for them. It was a fair distance from the lagoon, much farther than Randall and Mike initially realized. Mike in particular couldn't wait to get home and strolled a few paces ahead, while Becca took her time. She walked with folded arms and head downcast, ashamed of all the trouble she'd caused. But Randall walked with her and put a hand on her shoulder from time to time as a silent way of saying 'It's OK.' She didn't argue; a sure sign that she was feeling better.

The constant singing of frogs and crickets became more prominent back at the pond. Mike found them fascinating and kept trying to catch some. "Slippery little guys, aren't they?" he exclaimed as a frog popped out of his grasp.

Randall tried to warn, "Might want to step out of the water, Wazowski, there's—"

"Wahh!" A snake suddenly reared its head up in surprise. Mike jumped a full five feet back onto dry land. Little things like this kept happening as they went along. Foreign creatures that he wasn't that familiar with surprised him, and he jumped or flinched away in shock. (Much to the others' amusement.)

Mike was all-too-happy when the clearing came into view. This entire adventure had left him wet, muddy, and tired. He jogged eagerly over to the carved wooden door that led back home. As hectic as the last hour had been, this would be a great story to tell Celia Mae. "At last! I may not sound very serious at the moment, but I really am glad you're OK, McKeen," Mike said as the others caught up. "Just don't go doing it again. Cryptic note or not, there's no telling what could've happened! It's been fun, going along for the ride; quite the story to tell my Shmoopsie-Poo all about…Ow!" He slapped his own face to kill a mosquito. "Too many bugs out here, though…hope I don't catch anything. That would really put a damper on…" He let the sentence trail off upon opening the door.

There was nothing on the other side. No workshop. Just the rest of the swamp. Mike shut it and tried again…Still nothing. "Um…"

Randall checked it, pounding on the frame and the lights up top, in case it needed a little jolt. But nothing happened. "Well, that's not good…"

…

Meanwhile, Fungus was losing his mind even more. The door had strangely gone offline without any explanation. And bringing it back to working order was proving harder then he thought. He checked the control panel and the frame, trying to figure out the problem. "Oh dear, oh dear…"

Celia Mae was in the workshop, too. Against better judgment, Fungus had hurried to fetch her, since it was the end of the work day and she was bound to go searching around for Mike. He hated to worry her like this, but she deserved to know what was going on. The pink, snake-haired woman was standing near, wringing her tentacle hands, with every snake wearing an expression even sadder then her own. Celia looked at Fungus expectantly.

Fungus shrugged, unsure how to fix the machine. "Uh…heh, heh…"

"You can fix it, can't you? How long will it take?" Celia asked anxiously. "If my Googely-Bear is out there, lost in the wilds, all alone to face who-knows-what—"

"No, no, no, nothing as terrible as that! Randall and Becca are out there, too. She, uh," He decided against mentioning the suicide note. "She went out there earlier without anyone monitoring the station, that's all. And they went in to find her. Trust me, Mike couldn't be in better hands. They'll all be fine!"

The statement helped Celia Mae calm down. Even the snakes relaxed. "How in the world did this happen?" She looked the portable door station up and down. "This is one of the ones that they decommissioned. Wasn't this old thing fixed up?"

"Yeah. Randall did some tinkering to make it work. It's remotely powered, so it shouldn't be too hard to fix…" Fungus got a screwdriver to open up the control panel's core. "Let's see…the problem should be in here somewhere…"

…

"Maybe this time…nope…or maybe this time?" Mike kept opening and slamming the door shut. Each time was only met with the same view of the swamp forest continuing off into the distance. The poor monster then grabbed the knob with both hands and begged loudly with a sob, " _Please, work_!"

Randall and Becca were sitting on a mushroom-covered log at the edge of the clearing to watch the scene with interest. Wazowski had been at this for the last ten minutes with no sign of stopping. "How long do you think until he cracks?" Becca observed.

"Not long now." Randall then called over with a mischievous snicker, "Hey, Wazowski! Why don't you try again? It's been a whole twenty seconds!"

Of course! Fungus might have fixed it within that time! Mike opened the door yet again—and wailed in anguish again, this time collapsing to his knees. Randall was finding this far too funny and wished he had a phone to record and remember it by.

"This must've been how you and Suzie felt when you two got stranded in France." Becca noted.

"Pretty much. Only it was a heck of a lot more dire that time. What with my gunshot wound being infected. I was pretty feverish that first day in Europe; she was a big help." He inhaled in surprise when Suzie blinked into view right in front of him! To cover the shock, he pretended to swat at some gnats.

Suzie was looking very chipper as usual and informed him, "I just checked on the other side. Fungus is trying to fix it, but it may take a little while. So sit tight!" The girl's injuries and bruises were back to a more healed state. It was strange how they were tied directly into her sister's emotions. Suzie stepped right in front of Becca…although one could not see the other, it was good to have them side-by-side again. "Thanks for saving her again, Randy…I've gotta talk to you later, OK? It's important."

He nodded as the girl blinked out of sight without further explanation. He knew exactly what she was talking about. _Must be about that premonition. Becca 'feeding herself to the alligators' must've been it._ Aloud, he explained to the others, "Fungus should be fixing it. He knows we're out here, so all we have to do is wait. The guy may be a stuttering worrywart, but he knows how to repair an old door station."

So the trio sat around and waited for a while. Mike (somewhat) calmed down, partly because of a growling stomach. He kept up the pacing, though, and opened the upright carved door at random times, refusing to sit down. This predicament was bringing back memories of being stranding in the Himalayas…Randall and Becca were getting hungry, too, but decided to wait for just a tad longer. They sat nearby on a mushroom-covered log, chatting or playing guessing games to pass time.

Mike didn't see how they could be so calm! Scarcely three minutes after his last panicked outburst, he came over to voice his fears. "Too much time has passed! Celia's probably worried sick. Guess those big dinner plans are ruined…" No reaction came from the others, who were just letting him ramble on. Mike couldn't understand it. " _How_ are you two so chill right now? If you haven't noticed, we're _stranded_! And all you can do is sit there?"

"What else? There's nothing we can do except wait. Learn some patience." Randall held is tongue to keep from cracking up. An ironic statement coming from the most impatient monster ever.

Mike blinked in surprise. "You're taking this remarkably well."

Becca hopped off the log to stretch her legs. "It's rough to survive out here, but we're only waiting out a repair job or something. So quit complaining and let's get some grub. Ready, Mike?"

"Huh?"

"There'll be plenty to go around once we catch it."

Mike blinked in surprise yet again and looked to Randall incredulously, who only shrugged. He didn't budge from the log—after all, someone had to stay at the door in case it came back online. Mike saw the reasoning in this and begrudgingly followed Becca further into the trees. This was not how he imagined his evening to go.

…

A littler later, they returned with three rats, freshly killed by Becca. Mike carried one by the tail, outstretched as far away as possible while grimacing.

"How'd it go?" Randall chuckled at Mike's disgusted expression and Becca's highly entertained one.

"Let's just say this guy can scream loud enough to scare off anything within a mile radius." said Becca.

"So that's what that was."

One of the rats was tossed to Randall, who bit into it hungrily. When she did the same, Mike watched with an odd 'what-are-you-doing?' kind of look before going at his own rat without complaint. It didn't matter if it was cooked or not; monsters could even eat old garbage if they so chose. But this was definitely a far cry from the fine dining and romantic evening with Celia Mae he had pictured.

"It's been a while…" Randall observed when they were half-through with the rat dinner. "Fungus had better fix whatever's gone wrong. And soon. Or we'll miss Rex's birthday party. Plus, I've got a big interview with the press tomorrow."

Mike spit out a bone. "Oh yeah, Sulley mentioned that! TV cameras and everything to spread the word about that prototype of yours. Too bad you set it up on a Scare Floor. Some of the Laughers would love to have a few TV cameras around; you know, give Monstropolis some more exposure to this Laugh Power endeavor we've done. Or maybe give the city some more showbiz?"

Becca and Randall were silent for a moment. "Stupid idea." They said simultaneously.

The better part of an hour passed slowly. To kill time, they played more games like charades, or just amused themselves by catching fireflies and crickets. Randall even ate a few; they were tasty little insects. But Mike grew antsier every minute. He kept circling the door, barely taking his eyes off it. The expression on his face had grown into an uncomfortable wince. Then he starting tapping his foot for a solid ten minutes straight, making the others wonder about his mental well-being. Eventually, before more alarms bells rang, Mike cried out, "That's it! I can't take it anymore!" while hopping up and down on the spot. "Where does a guy go when nature calls out here?"

"Pick a tree, any tree." Randall waved around at the entire forest. Mike immediately zoomed off out of sight, still hopping around uncomfortably.

"That was priceless." Becca laughed in hysterics before getting up herself. "I'm still hungry. The pond isn't that far; think I'll head back and catch a fish. But holler if that stuttering red bean pokes his head through. I've got a few choice words for him."

"Us getting stuck out here is all your fault, I should point out," Randall reminded. "If you hadn't posted that note—"

" _Yes_. I get it, I get it," she sighed. Her actions hadn't meant for all this to happen. Especially to Mike Wazowski, who was a nice guy and got roped into this purely by accident. "I wasn't thinking straight. So: my bad; sure me, hate, me, the works."

"I don't hate you, I—" Randall stopped himself from going on, unsure if he would sound stupid or not.

She let the moment hang for a second. "Sorry I got us into this; things have been a little crazy as of late. Let's just wait this out and deal with one problem at a time; Mike could be going insane and someone's gotta keep an eye on him in case he really loses it." She began to leave for the stream. She stopped in her tracks and asked over her shoulder, "Do you want some fish, too?"

"Sure." He smiled. One raw rat didn't make a very filling meal. Plus, a decent dinner would keep Mike a bit more grounded.

…

One filling fish meal and another hour later, things were becoming quite interesting in the clearing. Not only was the night sky beginning to brighten, but the birds were more vocal now. Dawn was on its way, meaning it must be dusk back in the Monster World. It was a bit concerning, how long they had been waiting. But no one said anything. Becca was being quiet, sitting on the rocks by the stream, dangling her legs and tail in the water to keep her scales hydrated. Randall stayed near the trees, doing pull-ups on a branch and blending into random colors whenever a bright insect flew by. But both of them were watching the ongoing basket-case called Mike Wazowski.

The green cyclops was lying on his back in the grass, singing woeful songs and whining between each verse. It was hard to tell if he was actually losing his cool, or just plain bored. His lanky arms made dramatic gestures into the air for emphasis as he sang... "I'm all alooonnnee…..there's no one here besiiiiide meeee…so I'll sing this melooodyyyyyy….just me and only meeeeee…."

"This is pathetic." Becca said with a deadpan frown, turning to Randall. They were sitting some distance away, watching Wazowski keep up his act. "How long is he going to sing?"

"Until he cracks. Or maybe until we crack first." The sky was ever so slowly turning from black to navy blue, he observed. "Daybreak's coming. It must be getting late on the other side." Suddenly, on his next pull-up, he noticed Suzie standing in middle of the clearing. She was looking anxious, like she wanted to talk.

Becca yawned, showing no signs of seeing the ghost. "Yeah. Stupid time difference…I'm gonna take a walk around the clearing to stay awake. And don't worry; I won't throw myself to the alligators." The look on her friend's face was doubtful and she reassured. "Randy, I _promise_."

He nodded, and let her go off alone, knowing that despite her temper, she always kept her promises and was extremely loyal. He hung by the tree branch to save face while Becca left, and Suzie came closer. On his next blink, the vision suddenly materialized on the branch itself, sitting there with her legs and tail dangling. "That was a close call, back at the lagoon." She commented, watching as Becca walked away. "You know, Randy, you're getting pretty good at saving monsters."

"Don't mention it," He said. "Seriously. _Don't._ The last thing I want is a reputation that is _too_ hard to keep up. My whole redemption thing is tough enough." He dropped to the grass, tired, and said with some annoyance, "Suzie, you said you could sense when this premonition of yours would happen! Why didn't you warn me beforehand? Now we're stranded out here with this guy." He jabbed a thumb towards Mike Wazowski's pathetic lament.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about! This wasn't the 'terrible event' I mentioned."

"Huh?"

"The feeling is still there." She shivered. "Becca's little stunt was bad, yes, but something much bigger is coming. And much worse…I don't know if it has something to do with me being dead, but I can tell. I just _know_ something bad is going to happen soon, and my sister's jumping episode wasn't it."

For several minutes neither of them spoke. If something big was on its way…"Then what is it?" Randall asked.

"I have no idea." Both were left confused. What could be worse than a potential suicide by throwing oneself to the alligators? After losing Suzie, Randall didn't think there _could_ be anything worse…or could there? He shuddered at the thought. Bad memories were returning and he was filled with further dread.

Mike still lay on his back, staring at the navy blue sky and singing with emotional anguish. "She'll be comin' 'round the mountain when she cooommmmeeesss…."

"Is he OK? I would be concerned, but this is just too funny!" Suzie giggled with glee. All of a sudden her cheerful nature returned. "I can see why he's the top Laugher. If I hadn't died, maybe it's a job I could've done! How's this for a one-liner? 'It's not that the guy didn't know how to juggle. He just didn't have the balls to do it.' Get it?"

"How can you possibly say that when a crisis is looming over us?" Randall said incredulously. The vision cut the laughter in regret, going quiet and downcast. He was angry that she wasn't being more serious…but decided to cut her some slack. The girl really couldn't help it; she was just a kid, and all of her problems were already over. She was merely a bystander in all that was happening around her. _Still, she should be more concerned about whatever storm is coming. I only hope it isn't an unfixable problem, whatever it is._

…

Back in the workshop, Celia Mae had called Naomi and Bernard to let them know what was happening. And that their friends would possibly be a tad late for Rex's birthday party…Of course they hurried down to the factory and burst through the front entrance long after the last whistle of the day had blown.

"Not again…" Naomi groaned, glaring at the wooden swamp door with disdain. " _Why_ does this keep happening to us?"

"Bad luck?" Bernard put his crutches down and grabbed a chair.

Celia informed them that the problem should be fixed very soon. "Don't worry, it shouldn't take too long. Fungus is rushing around maintenance to find another power cell."

"How in the world can this thing run out of power so quickly? Why doesn't it just plug into the wall? Seriously, Randall should've made a few modifications to that, too. Now we'll have to explain to his brother and nephew that we may not make it to the party!" said Naomi in distress.

"Calm down, they'll be fine," Bernard said in a reassuring, fatherly way. "Let's wait a bit before calling Sam. It's really not that bad of a crisis, if you think about it."

Celia wasn't so sure. Even the snakes of her hair sighed with worry as she paced around the room, glancing at the unlit door every ten seconds. "Hope they're holding out alright. My Googley-Bear isn't really made for the woods…"

…

"So if hunters find us, do we just play dead? Or grab a weapon and fight back? I really don't wanna resort to such things…" Mike asked another question about survival. He was exploring the clearing, taste-tasting several foul-smelling mushrooms. "Yuck. This one's bad…So what else do you guys do for food out here?"

"For the last time: hunt, forage, fish, or steal." Randall answered. At least Mike had calmed down from his singing spree enough to make friendly conversation. He held back a chuckle at Wazowski's flabbergasted expression. "You're really out of your element, aren't you?"

"Tell me about it. There aren't any houses around here, by any chance? Maybe you could sneak in to get something decent to eat? I'm starving!"

"No, there aren't. And you wouldn't be starving if you hadn't been so picky with the rats earlier."

Mike's stomach made an audible growl and he flopped onto a patch of moss. "Ugh…Stranded in the woods in another dimension with a depressed woman and an old enemy…hm. Guess that title doesn't really suit you now, huh, Randall?" Mike continued after Randall gave a shrug; since the latter's redemption, they were no longer enemies, but still not quite friends, either. But being on decent speaking terms was enough. "Well, at least it can't get any worse." Mike sighed. On cue, a distant thunderclap sounded off in the sky. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Are you two talking civilly?" Becca finally returned, holding three freshly caught fish and tossed one to each of them.

"Civil enough, I suppose," said Randall, biting into the snack to munch on its head. "Mike, aren't you gonna eat? You said you were starving."

The cyclops was holding the sizeable fish at arm's length. The only time he ate raw fish was during a sushi dinner at Harryhausen's with Celia. (Being the top Laugher of Monsters, Inc. meant it was far easier to make exclusive reservations there. It was the best dining spot in the city.) He poked at the fish's eyes with a grimace. "Yuck…And this is normal?" He took a tentative bite. "Hm. Not bad…Still, it's the weirdest snack I've ever had."

"What'd you expect? Cavier?" Randall chuckled. "If we didn't have to wait by the door, I'd drag you out for some real hunting, Wazowski. Then you'd realize how much work it is just to eat when you're stranded in the wilderness. So don't complain. It's driving us nuts."

The comment gave Mike some more perspective and he chewed away with a bit more gusto then before.

Suzie blinked into view again, this time sitting on the log beside Becca. As he and Mike were across from them, Randall had to fight not to choke in shock. Really, she always showed up at super inconvenient times! The girl got comfortable and watched them all chow down on the freshly caught meal. "This brings back good memories, doesn't it? Remember when the gang used to hunt deer in Yellowstone Park? That sure was fun! And so was hiding from all the park rangers; just like a game of cat-and-mouse…"

There was a one-sided conversation as Suzie monologued about times gone by. All through it, Randall put his acting skills to use and kept eating without even looking at her as though nothing was amiss. But it was so _hard_ not to respond! With Mike and Becca both oblivious to the ghost's presence, he couldn't exactly talk back…as always, seeing the sisters side-by-side was difficult…not for the first time, heavy guilt about the younger's death he so often felt rose up…yet he kept quiet and let Suzie ramble on happily.

…

Dawn in the Human World was nearly here. The sky only had a tiny hint of navy, now. Most of it glowed orange, gold, and pink with a rising sun. But rainclouds loomed in the opposite direction…a thunderclap sounded off with the threat of bad weather. The dark clouds picked up some light from the sunrise, giving them a lovely highlighted pink edge. But the beauty of it wouldn't last long, the way they kept drifting closer.

Thunder made Mike's anxiousness rise again. He didn't want to get caught in a rainstorm; judging from the former outcasts, storms in the swamp could be very harsh and unpleasant. Randall and Becca were sitting on the ground, now, perfectly content with their backs against a log.

"Well, I've officially had it!" Mike stood up, determined not to let fear get the best of him. "No more misery. We've been out here for what, three hours, now? It's time for some stand-up!"

Becca groaned. "Mike, I'm really not in the mood for—"

"Please let me practice? Besides, I'm bored. I've gotta rehearse my new material anyway. You guys look like you're about to fall asleep, so this should keep you awake, right?" That was a good point. In the Monster World, it must be after dark, if dawn was breaking here in the swamp. When Mike's audience of two made no remark, he went on. "OK, then. Not the best crowd, but here we go. _Eh hem_ …" he cleared his throat before trying to lighten the mood. "Have you ever lost your wristwatch at a crowded party? Happened to me today. The thing fell to the floor and some monster was _standing_ on it! Thing is, he wasn't moving, 'cause he was right by the buffet, tryin' to steal food from another guy's plate. So I tackled him to the ground! Want to know why? 'Cause you shouldn't steal food. Not on _my watch_ …"

During the long-winded stream of jokes, Becca whispered in a deadpan voice to Randall, "Give me strength. I don't think I can handle this."

He half-smiled with a chuckle. Becca was still shaken from her recent jumping episode, and was curled up in a ball with her tail wrapped around her. Although it wasn't cold outside, she was shivering a little. Randall knew these were signs of extreme regret... So he put two arms around her to offer some comfort; it was over and everything would be OK. Her tough exterior was still calm and emotionless, but she did not pull away. A good sign. They stayed like that to wait out Mike's long-winded string of stand-up. Suzie had always been the jokester in their gang, but some of Wazowski's material was pretty good. It was all clean and easy to understand. Made sense, since it had to be simple enough for human children to understand. Laugh energy didn't make itself.

His audience wasn't much for comedy, Mike discovered. Not a single laugh came from either of them, even well into the recitation. "Hm…maybe the new material needs some more work…?" Suddenly a huge rattlesnake hissed from nearby. "AHH! SNAKE! Where is it?!"

Randall and Becca burst out in laughter. Jokes were fine. But the sight of a monster leaping five feet into the air? Much better. Mike scrambled onto the log. "Where is it? Where's the snake?! Are snakes poisonous to monsters, anyway? I need to know these things!" He never figured out that it was only Randall throwing his voice with a snake imitation.

The moment of fun was interrupted by a very welcome sight: the red light above the door frame coming to life.

All three saw it. And held their breath in silence...

It opened! The short form of Fungus came through, followed by the tall Celia Mae and all five snake heads smiling with joy at the sight of Mike. In her sparkly green dress, the receptionist looked extremely out-of-place in the swamp as she hurried over to the trio. Her pink tentacle arms reached to give him the biggest hug. Even the snake-hair started participating, all five of them kissing the cyclops all over his face. "Googley-Bear! I was so worried! Are you OK?"

"Never better, my sweet! I thought things were getting pretty dire, but these guys kept my head levelled in the end," Mike gave a grateful thanks to Randall and Becca. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting! How long has it been, anyway?"

"Don't worry; there's still plenty of time to make it to the restaurant. Goodness, you'll have to get cleaned up, first. You're covered in mud!…" Celia crooned as they practically waltzed through the portal back into the Monster World. Fungus held the door open for them. This whole time, he shot apologetic stares towards the others…

They were both majorly ticked off. Having been forced to wait three hours in the damp swamp on pins and needles, not knowing if the door would ever come back online? Not exactly fun. Without a word, Randall and Becca dragged themselves through the door, back into the workshop's florescent-light glare. The sight of the portal was a welcome sight.

Naomi and Bernard were equally glad to see them. "You're back! Oh my gosh, thank goodness that's over…" "Your brother still doesn't know what's keeping us. Want me to call him?"

As Mike and Celia Mae thanked Fungus for the rescue profusely, they bade everyone a goodbye and left hand-in-hand off to get ready for their dinner date. As for everyone else, no words were even spoken. Becca was too mentally drained and dealing with grief on top of all this, but frowned like she'd never frowned before.

Randall crossed every arm and gave Fungus an evil-eye glare. She did the same. If looks could kill, she would be the master. Both simply waited for an explanation.

The stuttering red monster apologized. "Heh, heh. S-sorry it took so long…B-but I found a new power cell, didn't I? It took a while to track down a new one. S—s—seems storage didn't have many to spare—"

" _That's_ what happened? Ugh…" Randall marched over to a toolbox and took out a key. Then he stormed over to the workshop's locked storage cupboard. It was a big one, tucked over in the corner where all kinds of spare parts and tools were kept. Randall opened it and inside was…a whole stash of extra power cells. "Next time there's a rescue mission, _check in here first_."

"…Right…" said Fungus. He had forgotten all about that key.

…

They ended up being over an hour late for Rex's birthday party. It was taking place back at the Boggs' household, which was decorated very minimally with just some streamers and a few bunches of balloons in the kitchen. It was a small affair. Nicholas and Lucy Brennen were there, along with Penny who was super-excited about her best friend turning five years old. (A 'big kid' now, apparently.) Three other kids from the factory daycare were here, too, with Samuel in the midst of it all, trying to keep them entertained. A party this late in the evening was odd for kids this young. But Sam was such a workaholic, it worked out just fine for everyone.

When the gang joined the party in the kitchen, Nick and Lucy politely welcomed them, and Rex excitedly dashed over.

"Uncle Randy! You're here!" he practically leaped onto his uncle for a big hug. "And so is everyone else! What took you guys so long? We started the party without you!"

"Get off, Squirt—please." Randall said without sounding too exhausted. Though hard to admit, he had a soft spot for his nephew.

"'Kay. C'mon! Everyone's here! Wait 'till you hear about all the fun we've had!…" the boy began blabbering on about all the games they'd already played.

Everyone else followed, but Randall lingered in the kitchen doorway, not quite ready to join. A part of him wanted to disappear and sneak off to his room for a well-deserved rest. Saving Becca, getting trapped in the swamp, dealing with Mike and his melodramatics, Suzie bugging him constantly the whole time, and this fiasco with the big TV interview tomorrow…it was too much to handle. Some sleep would be welcome, but he decided to hang out for a while, just for the sake of his nephew.

Rex, Penny, and their friends were at the table, with wrapping paper getting tossed everywhere as presents were opened. The adults mingled around the kitchen's island countertop to chat. All seemed relaxed and happy… _Good. Word of our little waiting game must not have spread._ Becca was looking mentally exhausted as well, but was glad to be amongst friends. He watched her admire the cake sitting on the counter—baked by Naomi earlier that day—and her mood perked up little by little. _I sure hope she goes to talk to Sam about everything…a counselling session will do her good, after today's little trip to the swamp. But being the stubborn one that she is—_

There was a sudden presence in the doorway to interrupt his thoughts.

His eyes darted to see Suzie watching the party, too. "Why didn't you tell me it was Rex's birthday? I would've brought a present—if I could, that is." She remarked.

Randall slipped into the hall without anyone noticing. "You're just _determined_ to end my day in misery, aren't you? _Please_ stay out of sight! Or better yet, leave entirely. With the house this crowded, there's bound to be a slipup…" With Rex able to see her, too, and with so many other kids, adults, and party activities going on in the kitchen, it would be hard to ignore a ghost that kept talking and acting like she was supposed to be there! If Randall didn't acknowledge her presence, his nephew might. Even by accident.

"Don't worry! I'll say here and out of the kitchen, OK?"

Randall didn't get a chance to respond when Becca came into the hall to see what had become of him. "This certainly makes up for all the craziness today, right, Randy?"

"Um—yeah, sure does." He said, wary of the ghost standing near. But Suzie had blinked out of sight. _Unless you count a haunting._

He was coaxed into joining the party when Naomi proudly carried the big candle-covered cake over to the table. The children didn't care how nice it looked; they just wanted to eat it. Randall stayed more or less in the background and kept quiet. (But he did join singing a verse of 'Happy Birthday.') Observing the party was his new mission, now; he couldn't allow Suzie to spoil it all with her ghostly mischievousness.

"Happy birthday, Rex!" Naomi said, presenting the cake after the song. "It's just like you requested: chocolate, with fish guts filling and fire-fruit icing." She began dishing out slices to everyone in the room. It was the definite opposite of burnt pancakes and foul-tasting pizza she used to make.

Bernard was impressed by the improvement and helped himself to more. "This chef course you're taking seems to be paying off, Princess."

"You know, that nickname is going to get old someday." Naomi giggled. "Randall's cooking lessons on the side are helping, too. I'll be a certified chef in no time. Then I can bake all the birthday cakes you guys want."

The three children—who resembled a monitor lizard, a frog, and a very hairy tiger—noticed Bernard's missing leg for the first time. He simply told them he had 'an accident,' and left it at that. But Rex further asked, "Mr. Bernard, now that your stump is all better, are you gonna get a robot leg soon?"

"That's a good idea, Dad." Nicholas chimed in. "You wouldn't have to hop around on crutches anymore."

"There's no rush. Maybe this winter I'll start the process of getting one…" Bernard are his share of cake a bit more thoughtfully after that.

Memories of the awful boating accident were still fresh in Naomi's mind. After all, she had actually _been_ there when it happened. But she wisely said nothing for fear of disturbing the mood.

Everyone was in good spirits. Especially the kids who were loud and making a mess of cake crumbs and more wrapping paper. Randall very much wanted to leave, but didn't. For one thing, the vision of Suzie was _still_ hanging around. And in the room, no less! She kept blinking into view, looking as solid and as real as ever, every few minutes. Thankfully not _too_ far into the kitchen…but there was one moment when she suddenly appeared in front of the cake as it was about to be sliced for second helpings. Randall sent her a stern warning glare to get her to leave. At least she was keeping out of Rex's line of sight. But Randall knew the ghost wasn't going to leave without wishing the boy a 'Happy Birthday' in person. _She's bound to pop in again once this little get-together is over!_

The girl was really pushing boundaries tonight. Why? After three weeks of absence, _this_ happens? Joining in the festivities like nothing was wrong? It took every ounce of willpower to stop from scolding. _Doesn't she ever intend to leave? The weeks without her have been more or less stress-free—I think. Then to never leave all afternoon…this must be to make up for it all in a super annoying way…_

Again, the girl popped up in the midst of the adults talking in the kitchen while eating cake, and spoke as if trying to make conversation! "Poor Bernard…I felt like dying all over again when that boating accident happened." She lamented to an oblivious Nick and Lucy. She then saw Randall's glare and winced. "Sorry! Just trying to mingle." And then she was gone again.

Randall couldn't take much more of this. All patience was totally gone. So what if a ghost was hanging around? She knew not to be here, and she was only annoying _him_ , not anyone else. So he casually slipped away into the hall for a break. Someone noticed this, however.

Becca followed, wanting to talk with him anyway. "What's up with you? You've been awfully quiet this whole time."

"So have you." Randall pointed out.

"With good reason. It's been a weird day…" Thinking back to the suicide attempt earlier, she fumbled with the glass of punch in her hand. "About this afternoon…Don't tell Bernard or Naomi about it, got it? I'd rather keep it quiet right now. Maybe it's time for another therapy session with your shrink brother. I…I haven't been going the last few weeks."

Just as Randall suspected. Becca always kept insisting she was fine, but clearly wasn't, no matter what others told her. Not until some drama unfolded did the admittance come. He sighed and decided not go around scolding anymore. "Don't worry; I'll keep my mouth shut. Just… no more jumping episodes from now on."

She gave him a brief nod—brief, but sincere. She began to walk back into the kitchen, but turned back suddenly. "Oh! And just between us: thanks for coming out to stop me…so, are you coming back for games and junk?"

"Nah. I've had enough excitement for one day." The kids had begun demanding another round of games, so now was the perfect time to slip away. Randall's energy was completely spent.

So Becca smiled meekly and let him be.

Randall's room was on the other end of the house. The noise from the party could still be heard, but not too badly, and he was so tired that sleep would come quick. But halfway down the hall, yet another monster came to find him.

"Hey, wait up! I haven't talked to you all night!" Samuel hurried over, leaving the others in charge of organizing games. As a phycologist, he tended to be extremely observant of others' emotions and could tell if anything unusual was up. "Is something going on? You and Becca have barely spoken all evening. What kept all four of you guys late, anyway?"

"You'll find out later. A kid's birthday party is far from a good place to discuss it." Hoping Sam would leave it at that, he tried to leave.

"Oh dear. Guess another counselling session is on the way…" Sam said, sensing something bad. "You know, I live for helping patients sort out their problems, but Becca's a very tough case. She's got a very strong exterior and doesn't like anyone seeing through it. What she sees in you, I'll never know."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Randall spun around to face his brother, not sure what to make of the accusation.

"Nothing. In case you haven't noticed, she confides in you more and more these days; more than anyone, which is pretty unbelievable—Hey, are you alright?" Sam saw Randall go stiff all of a sudden.

The vision of Suzie was standing _right behind_ Sam with her arms flailing wildly. Randall was startled, for she looked very scared for some reason. "Uh—yes." _Act cool, act cool._ "There are just a lot of things on my mind. It was a crazy afternoon."

His brother only raised a brow without asking questions. He'd figure out what had happened, anyway, and could see that Randall was tired. "OK. I won't pry. Go get some sleep, then. You're gonna need it for that big interview with the press tomorrow. And since you've got that habit of talking to yourself—" Here, Randall tensed up, wondering how many 'ghost conversations' had been overheard. "—keep saying things to stay calm. I would imagine most monsters would be nervous, with all the pressure you're under. Feel free to drop by my counselling office if you ever want to talk about it, OK?"

' _Pressure.' Humph. You have no idea_. Randall finally made it to his bedroom, shut the door, and relished in the solitude…for all of a few seconds.

Suzie, still looking scared, blinked into view not three inches away. "At _last_ , we can talk! Listen, Randy, I think I know what's going to happen! The premonition!"

"Back off! Ever heard of personal space? Do you mean the 'terrible thing' you're so sure is coming? Enough of that, Suzie. You're just overly-concerned—"

"No, no, no! I figured it out just now! You told me to stay away for a bit, and I did, for three weeks, but I can't just go away and ignore this feeling. It's been driving me crazy for ages," Suzie paced in a circle before taking a seat in the hammock strung up in the corner of the room. "My sister's episode tonight wasn't as bad as the first time; she wasn't as determined, so she wasn't in as much danger. Maybe that's why I didn't sense it. But whatever's coming is _much_ more serious, so listen up: I think it has something to do with _your brother_."

Randall was dumbfounded. The ghost's ability to sense disasters was questionable. After all, she hadn't warned him about today's events. Nor of Bernard's boating accident, which had been a pretty horrific event, too. It was safe to say there was doubt in the air. "Well, what's going to happen, then?"

"I don't know." said the ghost.

"Ugh. I can't go around stopping this 'disaster' if you don't even know what it is!" Randall promptly collapsed on his back onto the geometric-print bedspread. He was ready to call it a day…

But the vision got up and paced again, trying to think up some advice. "Maybe…maybe if you told Sam about me? He's a shrink, right? You could tell him in confidence—"

"Stupid idea, Suzie. Sam doesn't specialize in ghosts. I can see that conversation now: 'Hi, bro! Guess what? My friend has to warn you about something!' 'Oh, really? About what?' 'She doesn't know.' 'Oh is that right? Who is this friend?' 'Suzie. She just came to me in a dream. Isn't that weird?'" Randall acted out the parts mockingly. "My brother will think I'm completely insane. And how would telling him about a ghost following me around solve your premonition, anyway?"

"It was just an idea." Suzie shrugged, regretting bringing it up. "But Sam's going to be in trouble soon. Even if I'm wrong, there's no harm keeping an eye on him, right? Maybe if he knew about my warning, he'll be real careful and nothing will happen."

"OR we could do nothing and nothing will happen, anyway."

"Please, believe me, Randy!" Suzie put her hands together to beg. "I just _know_ I'm right! Do me the biggest favor ever and think about it? Even if you decide not to tell him, at least keep a sharp eye out for trouble."

He sighed in defeat. "Fine. 'Cause he's my brother, and just to humor you, I'll keep an eye out for trouble. But I'm _not_ going to tell him about my being haunted. Or about Rex able to see you, too."

"Fair enough." She agreed. "I'll help, OK? I promise I'll keep a super-close watch on him and let you know if trouble's coming!"

"You do that. Good night." Randall didn't bother listening. He opened his eyes just as she blinked out of sight, and the expression on her face was one of immense relief. He groaned. "Thank goodness that's over…"

Sleep threatened to take over, and his mind then began to race. Was all this fuss simply because she had a feeling 'something bad' was going to happen? The frustration he got from her presence on a regular basis was aggravating enough, but she had seemed so serious tonight. Terrified, even…This strange ability of hers wasn't even totally accurate…but still…maybe she had a point.

Randall got more comfortable, unsure what to believe. He remembered the warnings beforehand about Becca's first suicide attempt from Bernard's rooftop. The ghost had been right about _that_ …But why would Sam be in trouble, anyway? What sort of trouble could his workaholic brother even get into?

Telling Sam about the ghostly vision of Suzie would be a mistake. So Randall thought for a while…if this hunch of hers was indeed for real, it couldn't be ignored.

 **Next up: a Double Update where things get a bit more serious. I'm dying to give more hints as to what's coming, but I won't spoil it too much. So stay tuned for more character development, more drama, and someone's eminent downfall. aka character death...:( As always, politely-worded reviews are appreciated! We're in the final arc of this story, and I have no plans to stop! See you soon! :)**


	22. True Forgiveness

**Double update, as promised. :) I worked super-duper hard on these chapters, and am extra-happy with how they turned out. (Written exclusively during my lunch breaks. My real life is awesome, but also busy busy busy.) On a side-note, welcome new readers, who have started following and liking my stories! Makes me so happy. :)**

 **So we're picking up right where we left off: Randall's redemption has come full-circle, now, and he finally gets a moment in the spotlight. But Ghost Suzie keeps on warning him about something dire to come. Bernard also gets his first prosthetic, and Randall tries to comprehend conflicting thoughts about Becca, with Naomi trying to get the truth out of him with little success.**

 **So sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

Chapter Twenty-One: True Forgiveness

A cold snap came overnight, it seemed. Soon after the ghost left, Randall woke up from a light doze and got up with the intention of sneaking outside to sleep in the tree out back. Even after all this time, it was such a normal thing to do…all those nights spent hiding out in trees in the Human World had really done a number on his preferred sleeping place. But he'd forgotten just _how_ cold it could be at this time of year. The warm swamps of Louisiana were one thing; the city of Monstropolis on a frosty night? With an early winter coming? Well, that was different.

A thick layer of frost had already formed when he snuck out to the backyard. It looked quite nice, actually—all silvery in the moonlight and oh so quiet with the absence of insects buzzing—but boy, was it ever cold out here. So he returned to his room and cranked up the heater. _Ahhh…much better_. And enjoyed a peaceful sleep without freezing to death. _Winter. Ugh…I'm sure going to miss that tree._

He slept soundly enough. But the impending doom of the big interview with the press made him wake up extra early in the morning…

The sun was barely up. All around his desk and even on the floor were papers he'd written with every question the press might ask him. There was no telling what to expect today…He was like a frantic teenager studying last-minute for a test. There was quiet panic running through every vein. Being prepared and ready for anything was the only thing he could think of doing.

Another short list of possible questions was written down; just random stuff that popped into his head, scribbled in a hurry. He flinched in surprise and gasped when Suzie blinked into view right beside him.

"You're up early." she greeted bluntly.

"Please don't do that!" he recovered. Then he reminded himself of the resolve to stay calm today. The ghost's constant pestering from the day before and his impatience with her played on his conscience a little. He tried to brush things up. "Listen, Suzie, I'm sorry if I've been a bit testy with you lately. Yesterday was just not a good day to get on my bad side."

She leaned against the desk. "That's alright. I understand you're a bit stressed out."

"Tell me about it." Randall grumbled under his breath and jotted down scientific-sounding answers to the questions he'd thought up.

"Watcha working on?"

"Trying to think up decent answers for stuff the reporters might ask. That stupid interview about my new invention is today…If I get nervous and mess up or forget to leave out something important, I'll risk making a fool of myself in front of all Monstropolis!"

Suzie nodded, observing all the papers strewn about. "Practicing for an interview. Huh. Isn't that kind of cheating?"

"Not really; more like rehearsing. They're gonna ask all sorts of questions about the new door station design. I worked so hard on that thing…this _has_ to go well. Not everyone at the factory trusts me about this, given what I've done in the past."

"It'll be fine! Just stay positive, like me!" she said, all chipper. "Here's a new joke I came up with: 'What do you call an alligator in a vest?...an in-vest-igator.' Get it?"

"Positivity isn't my specialty. And that wasn't as corny as some of the other ones."

"That's why there're funny!" She then became a bit more serious. "Moving back to your problem: you've come this far, so just chill out and go with the flow. What else could happen? But remember for the next little while, _no matter what_ , keep an eye on Sam. There isn't much time left; trouble is coming his way, remember?"

"First tell me to chill out, then tell me to watch for danger. I don't understand you, sometimes." Randall scoffed. "And your ability to sense danger isn't always right, Suzie…" He then asked not for the first time, "Are you sure you can't tell what's going to happen?"

She shrugged. "Sorry. It could be anything. But whatever it is, it's not good, so stay vigilant. Please?" When Randall only raised a brow in doubt, she tried to sound more urgent. "Look, you're already saved my sister twice. And Naomi and Bernard a few times back in the Human World—"

"We all did that as a team. Whenever anyone of us was in trouble—"

"Hey, I'm trying to make a point. So—"

"Morning, Miss Suzie!" came a child's voice. The door had been ajar, so Rex invited himself in quite casually. It put an immediate end to Randall and Suzie's argument. "Thanks for staying at the party last night! I saw you a few times, but couldn't really say hi. Dad and my friends might have thought I was crazy."

"Are you sure _we're_ not crazy, Squirt?" said Randall. "We're talking to a ghost!"

"Funny, Uncle Randy!" Rex laughed a little. "Dad's up. He's making toast and that funny-smelling sludgy drink. Want some?"

"Nah. I'm too nervous for breakfast…"

"Oh, go on and have some." Suzie insisted. "A good breakfast might help." She then whispered into his ear, lest Rex hear that something was amiss. "Also, I don't know when the disaster will happen, but it's _really_ soon. Trust me! So stay close to your brother!"

The warning felt like a stone being dropped into Randall's stomach. If she was being this stern about the whole thing, maybe it really was true. So he said aloud to Rex, "Alright, then. Tell Sam I'll be a minute."

"'Kay!" And Rex rushed off down the hall, his orange tail almost getting caught in the doorframe.

Staring at all the written papers, Randall couldn't really handle any more of this bizarre form of studying. There were still several hours to go; plenty of time to practice. He looked around the room for Suzie, but she was gone. No telling when she would appear again. He had a gut feeling that he should listen…but a part of him still doubted. _Warnings, hauntings, whispers…what if this premonition is true? I sure hope it isn't…I can't exactly keep an eye on Sam every minute of the day._

He got up from the desk and left the room. All of the practice questions were left where they were. Maybe if he forgot about them and just winged it when the press arrived, today wouldn't be so bad.

The smell of not-too-burned toast wafted around the kitchen. Samuel was doing his best not to ruin it, and doing a better job than normal. The decorations from Rex's birthday party were still up, though some of the streamers and balloons had fallen to the floor; Rex was batting one around like a slow-motion volley ball when Randall came in.

Looking through the window, the backyard was coated in an even thicker layer of frost. _Guess it was a good thing I stayed inside…_ Randall already missed the warm days of summer.

"Morning! Mind the balloons; I'll clean up later." Sam began his usual breakfast banter as Randall came in. "The gang was sorry to miss you at the end of the party; you disappeared so quickly. And Becca was certainly in a mood. Whatever trouble you guys landed in yesterday is bound to be a good story. She agreed to resume those counselling sessions, so I should hear all about it from her…Something wrong?" he noticed his brother not paying attention. Randall was just sitting there in the windowseat thoughtfully with a blank look.

"Uncle Randy's scared." Rex piped up.

Sam chuckled. "Is he now?" Ignoring Randall's scowl, he went on. "No news to anyone. This is a big day! We'll be right there at the interview to support you. Just breathe, stay calm, and if you think about it, all you need to do is answer questions about a subject you know everything about."

That made sense. It _was_ true, after all…Randall decided to take the advice and even took a long, steady breath to try. "Thanks." It was at times like these he was grateful to have such a logical brother. (Even if Sam was a slight know-it-all.) "You know, you really come in handy, sometimes."

Sam made a confused face. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment, but I'll take it."

"Hey Dad, can I have extra jelly? The kind with the worms that wiggle?"

"Manners, remember?" Sam became preoccupied with serving his little son some food. That was when another presence made itself known in the kitchen.

 _Oh, great. She's never going to leave me alone, now…_ Randall observed Suzie walk around a while before settling to lean against the side of the fridge. Out of the way and in a perfect spot to watch all that was happening…she was braiding her fin-tipped feelers anxiously and biting her bottom lip so hard that had she been alive, it would surely have bled. For a whole ten minutes, she barely moved. She was watching Sam the entire time and only briefly glanced at Randall with pleading eyes.

This was very disturbing. He had never seen her act so… _scared._ There were no signs at all that anything out-of-the-ordinary was to happen today. Sam didn't have any plans that would take him out of the factory. As far as Randall knew, his brother would just be working for the next twelve or sixteen hours. What could happen? But from the way Suzie was acting…

Randall waved, unnoticed by the others, to grab her attention. He crossed his heart with one hand to remind her of his promise. He'd keep an eye out for any trouble. Suzie still looked scared, but nodded before blinking out of sight. No doubt she'd be following Sam around until further notice, just in case.

A cold breeze wafted across the kitchen. Sam and Rex complained about it the instant it happened, and immediately felt a bit sluggish. Randall felt his energy drop, too. (Although it was hard to tell if the breeze had come from a crack in the window, or from the ghost of Suzie disappearing in a hurry.) Cold weather, every monster in the factory judging him, and a supposed impending disaster…suddenly talking to a TV reporter seemed like a piece of cake.

…

Scarcely a few hours later, Randall was on Scare Floor A, half-hiding behind the row of workstations. He wasn't pacing around or anything, but definitely fighting the urge to melt away into thin air on instinct. He peeked out over to the door stations on the other side of the room.

The lone prototype looked great: the shiny silver chrome plating, the aesthetic curved design, the new buttons and control panel, and the upgraded clamps all worked perfectly. It really did look like the equivalent of a new car or something from the future. Fungus was over there, testing it now while a group of monsters wearing press badges watched. It was a team of about fifteen, maybe twenty; some had heavy-duty TV cameras resting on their shoulders. They were going over last-minute preparations for the big interview. Sullivan was there, too, talking to them and looking very optimistic about this whole thing. Everything was all set…nothing would go wrong.

Unless Randall passed out from all this pressure. He was sure he was being scrutinized…That's why he was hiding back here. Most of the Floor was still working on gathering screams. Echoes of terrified children rang out every few seconds. The scary-looking monsters kept up the pace, while the not-so-scary assistants kept glancing over at the gathering at the far end of the room. Word of a TV crew in the building had spread fast, so of course everyone was interested in what was happening. Some of them spotted Randall in the back. A few workers whom had gained some amount of trust in the lizard waved with encouragement, but others wore questionable expressions of uncertainty…

Randall only nodded in acknowledgment or else ignored them. _Geez…This whole ordeal is getting bigger by the minute. What if it all backfires?_

 _It won't. You're getting support from the hierarchy, aren't you?_ Came the voice of an inner conscience. _And everyone around here has noticed your change in attitude. This will go well and really prove you've changed your ways._

 _It had better…otherwise you're a lousy conscience for giving me hope!_

Samuel and Rex suddenly materialized out of nowhere, right in front of him and making him jump. "Surprise! Told you we'd come!" Sam greeted, carrying Rex on his shoulders. The boy held onto his father's grey fronds to keep from falling off. "Doing alright, bro? You seem tense."

"This is no time for a heart-to-heart! Ugh…" Randall groaned, glancing out at the press crew again. "I'm so nervous…."

"Wow, look at the big cameras!" Rex craned his neck. "Hey, Dad, is the whole city gonna be watching?"

Randall cringed at the thought of this being live. Sullivan hadn't said anything about that! If that was true, Randall would strangle the big blue idiot right here and now!

"No. It'll be on TV tomorrow night," explained Sam. He turned back to Randall. "Don't be so worried. You know every inch of this machine. All you have to do is answer questions truthfully—even though that's not your strong suit."

"Har, har. Real funny..." A quick scan of the Floor revealed that someone he wanted to show up had yet to arrive. "Where's Becca? She said she'd be here; there are only ten minutes left until showtime."

He decided to venture out to the front of the workdesk to wait…but time wasn't on his side. The reporter was almost ready. She was a familiar personality from the news: a pretty monster with fangs, a mint green complexion, and big, elegant feathered wings—Kaitlyn Von Something-or-Other—and attracting quite the attention from nearby monsters. A few of the onlookers recognized her and were even starting to gather.

 _Great. An audience._ But Randall tolerated it. When the scream-collecting came to a halt, even more monsters began filing in through the entryway. He was surprised to see Mike Wazowski pushing through to the front of the crowd. The cyclops came up looking very excited with all that was happening.

"Wow! What a turnout. This is even better than the last commercial the Laugh Floor guys made." Mike observed, waving to Sullivan in greeting. (Who waved back cheerfully, despite being busy talking to the visitors.)

"What are you doing here?" Randall asked, more with surprise then anything. "I thought you'd be working on that Laugh record."

"Moral support, what else? And just so we're clear about it, this is way better than some scream-extraction-torture device, am I right?" Mike joked around before saying earnestly, "You know, Randall, we've had a lot of rivalry in the past. And I mean a lot…Kinda not so great to think about those times, now; I even thought you'd gone rogue." Mike looked over at the prototype, the news crew, and at all the changes happening around them before turning back. "But right now, between you and I: it's good to have the old you back."

Randall was surprised. Not sure how to respond, he said a quick, "Thanks." Maybe their old friendship could be salvaged, yet.

"Looks like they're ready for you. Get out there and show em'!"

There was still no sign of Becca. Randall squinted around, missing her terribly and wishing she was here. Maybe she was stuck in the crowd and he couldn't see her? Instead, he saw his brother and nephew give a thumbs-up. That helped a bit…he donned his glasses in an attempt to appear more professional and stepped forward to meet the press…

The attractive newswoman had a microphone all set to go, and a cameraman held one suspended on a pole overhead. It sure was strange seeing a TV personality in real life. She introduced herself quickly and explained how the interview was to go. It was all pretty basic, answering questions that the crew wanted to know; stuff like that. So without another moment of delay, it began. The slight crowd of watching monsters quieted down as the cameras started rolling…

The reporter began. "Good evening! I'm Kaitlyn Von Rumble, reporting from inside the mega-company of Monsters, Inc. Ever since the discovery of Laugh energy nearly two years ago, productivity has been at an all-time high. With the traditional Scare Floors also in operation, there have been jobs galore for monsters from all walks of life. However, the company's interdimensional door stations have proven to be growing increasingly unreliable in recent years…"

While she went on with the boring introductory speech, Randall waited off camera to one side, in front of the gleaming silver station, and tried to ignore the many stares from the audience. More faces seemed to be appearing still, trickling in from the Floor entrance. Outwardly, he stayed composed; acting skills came in handy, sometimes. But inside, that old voice of conscience kept saying: _For Heaven's sake, don't falter! You don't want to look like a moron in front of every monster in known existence, do you?_

 _Thanks, conscience, that really makes me feel better._ Randall thought back.

Returning to the present, he stood up straighter as the reporter walked towards him, still talking to the cameras which followed. She was wrapping up the speech at the same time. "…and all to be a thing of the past, thanks to one monster's radical idea."

 _Radical? Hmph. Well…I suppose some would call it that._ Darn it. That voice of conscience was bound to keep interrupting all through the next several minutes.

"Randall Boggs, tell us, what gave you the idea to design an entirely new system?"

The suspended microphone hovered directly above his head. Kind of hard to ignore. _OK, here we go…_ "Well," he said clearly. "I'd noticed the old stations were always breaking down or malfunctioning in some way. They're already several decades old; it seemed time for a much-needed upgrade, so to say. Since I have some background in engineering, I decided to design something that's faster, easier to operate, and overall more efficient." _Whew. Good answer._ _Keep it up._

"Word is that you've had an unconventional path to achieve this goal," Kaitlyn Von Rumble inquired. "Being on the humble maintenance team, of all things. When did you first realize the factory's problem?"

"Well, I suppose it all started a few months ago…" he hesitated for a nanosecond. _Uh oh. Please don't make me tell a life story, lady_ …But in that nanosecond of time, he finally saw Becca in the crowd. Way in the back and standing on a station desk to get a better view. She seemed to sense his apprehension; they knew each other so well that sometimes communicating was more like mind-reading. They made eye contact; she smiled proudly and motioned with her hands for him to go on. For some reason, her presence immediately calmed him.

New determination came and he spoke up. "Er…Building the prototype alone was near impossible; I couldn't have done it without the help of my friend, Jeffery Fungus," the cameras panned to Fungus, standing at the prototype's controls and shaking like a leaf. He waved nervously, having requested not to be directly spoken to, but still terrified beyond belief. So Randall went on with the talking part, leading the press over for a close-up of the machine. "Having a bit of help was important, given the concept we came up with. The way the individual sections are designed aren't exactly typical, so welding them together was only one of many steps…"

The rest of the interview went smoothly and continued without a hitch. Fungus didn't say a single word the entire time, (he may not even _have_ been able to, being nervous enough on a regular basis.) but the red, chicken-legged monster demonstrated the machine perfectly. The lift system worked like a new car, and the shine on the new hardware looked great in the rays of sun coming in through the skylight. It was all so new for the factory workers, that there was some applause at certain points. Randall got into a stride and more comfortable as it went on. He answered all of the reporter's questions and explained with as much professionalism as he could muster. (Maybe wearing his glasses helped with the act.) Cameras got up close for some shots at the inner workings, too.

It took a very long time. Randall didn't realize just how big this would be; maybe it would spread all throughout the Scare and Laugh industries…That sounded like a lot of pressure. Despite his past wishes to be great, he wasn't so sure he wanted to become a recognized face in the city. _Donning a disguise for this would've helped…_ he wondered as an afterthought. In the back of the crowd, he spotted Becca with his family, all of them waving. That helped. But boy, was he glad when it started to wrap up. _Let's hope this act of redemption is worth it…maybe I shouldn't have gone so overboard with the attempt._

"Randall Boggs, thank you so much for giving Monstropolis an inside look at this marvel," Kaitlyn Von Rumble shook his hand politely before turning back to face the cameras alone. "Up next, we meet the CEO of Monsters, Inc. himself, James P. Sullivan, to hear his opinion on this revolutionary idea. We'll be back after the break."

What a relief! It was over! There was a final demonstration led by Fungus, with the cameras getting more close-ups of the machine at work. A few factory workers even stepped forward to ask him questions. While this was happening, and the press team took their break, Randall was able to step away and let out the breath he didn't realize had been shaky for the last little while. He couldn't exactly disappear with the crowd here, watching. So he stepped to one side to wait for an ample time to slip away.

Fungus joined him after a few minutes, once the news crew was done with him. "Whew! Thanks goodness; I thought I'd faint when she came over with all those cameras. Why can't they just tell us _ahead_ of time what they're going to ask? Oh my goodness, do I need a break after all that…perhaps a cup of warm tea or maybe hot chocolate? Yes, hot chocolate sounds wonderful right now. The best remedy to recover from all that…"

Randall didn't bother pointing out who had actually done most of the talking. Fungus kept chattering away excitedly, quite proud of himself for not passing out in fear.

Randall again tried to get away from the hubbub. But the pack of monsters didn't seem to be dispersing. Many of them kept coming up to say how impressed they were or offer congratulations, but he really wasn't in the mood to talk. Yet he played the part and answered a few of them. Trying to survive a crowd of curious coworkers sure was hard—this was a very big deal, after all. It took several minutes to finally push through to the back of the horde…he was almost there, until one big, blue and furry wall blocked the way. _Oh great…what does he want?_ Randall almost camouflaged into thin air to sneak off. But as much as he hated this guy, he was still the head of the factory. Running off wasn't exactly a wise choice.

Sullivan stood there with pure honesty in his face and said simply, "They're going to start my half of the news story soon. You also probably want to get out of here, Randall, so I'll keep this short."

"Alright. What is it?" Randall tried to sound civil.

"I think inviting the press here was a good idea. You see, I know a lot of monsters have been talking ever since you returned; you know how rumors are." Sullivan was aware of how much distrust there had been regarding the lizard in the last few months. "This interview, and actually seeing what you've created here, really cleared things up for a lot of them; I'll just go out on a limb and say this: we're sorry we ever doubted you. Myself and Mike included."

Sullivan held out a blue paw for a handshake. Whether it was a truce or peace offering, Randall wasn't sure. He remembered the way things were in the past; all the scheming and almost causing Sullivan to fall to his death in the door vault. How was an apology for _that_ supposed to sound, anyway?

Randall did the only thing that came to mind: he shook hands with his former rival. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for—well…everything."

Sullivan nodded.

So this was how it felt to make peace with your worst enemy. Huh…not as terrible as Randall had imagined. The blue monster wove back through the crowd towards the news team, while Randall sought out his family, and Becca. He only found them because Rex was still perched up on Sam's shoulders.

The boy was cheering quietly, and Sam gave a few claps. "Good job, bro. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He laughed at his brother's look of immense relief.

Becca threw an arm around his shoulders. "Very impressive. C'mon, Genius. We should round up the others and go out to celebrate. It's not everyday someone like you gets full redemption."

"Thanks, I think?" Some of the audience—probably the rumor-starters—even seemed regretful, having been proven wrong about him. Randall wasn't sure how to react to all this. Positive attention was something he wasn't used too. It was a pleasant change, though. And he wouldn't have missed this chance at reformation for anything. There was no more hatred, and no more distrust. Not even from his worst enemies.

…

Bernard and Naomi strolled into the main foyer that afternoon, eager to hear how it had gone. The whole thing would of course be on TV tomorrow night, but they couldn't wait to listen to a first-hand account.

There was a surprise in store, though: Bernard shocked everyone when they realized he only carried one crutch today. The stump of his right leg had been fitted with a prosthetic one. (It was only temporary until the permanent one was ready.) The one he wore was little more than a thick metal rod with a simple foot attached; the ankle joint didn't even bend very far. But he was slowly able to walk again. The one crutch was helping to re-learn his balance and walk without a limp for the first time in ages. "I wanted it to be a surprise. Just got this thing fitted early this morning." Bernard explained with a smile.

There was much exhilaration from the gang. Ever since the accident on the fishing boat, all had been worried about his physical will-being, but it seemed he was making a fast and easy recovery. Here he was, back on two feet and slowly walking again! "Enough about me," Bernard said after being bombarded with questions about the prosthetic. "The permanent one will be much better once they've finished making it. Tell me, how did it go with the press?"

"Better then I sure thought it would…" Randall gave a simplified version of the entire event. "Even my old rivals were supportive."

"You should have been there, guys," Becca added. "I think it's safe to say all the doubters and nay-sayers have been proven wrong. If any more of those rumors start, I'll gladly punch them for you, Randall." She said with semi-seriousness, looking at him with pride.

"This does call for some celebration. What do you guys want to do?" asked Naomi.

There were a few minutes of brainstorming amongst the group. Randall had a thought as to where they could go, but didn't speak up. It was an idea not everyone may have agreed on, so he kept quiet to listen to other suggestions first.

"How about a quick sail around the bay? Nick and Lucy aren't using the yacht right now," said Bernard.

"Are you kidding? It's freezing outside!" Naomi complained, pointing a thumb at the frosty front doors. "This cold snap is pretty brutal; imagine how much colder it'll be on the water!"

So that idea was scrapped. Becca mentioned some new indoor archery and shooting range, but it wasn't open at the moment. That's when Randall took the cue to say something. He wasn't feeling up to a lot of activity, and just wanted to go someplace quiet and relaxing. He and Sam often visited one particular sauna during cold weather. And it _was_ bitterly cold out…going someplace warm sounded great right about now…why not? It didn't hurt to ask the gang. "Hey, I've got an idea…"

…

The place was directly attached to a local gym: a modern-looking building in a stretch of mall; not too far from the factory. It wasn't much to look at from the outside, but much bigger and nicer then it appeared when one stepped in. When Bernard, Naomi, and Becca followed Randall inside, they were quite surprised. No one expected the complex Randall to enjoy places like this. The receptionist at the desk greeted them, and said she'd be with them in a moment to help.

The others took the time to look around the lobby. It was a pretty nice: all wood paneling, with several halls branching out to separate sauna rooms and other spa-type areas. The lobby had some plants, big comfy chairs in the waiting area, and soft jazz music playing. One wall even had a fountain running along it, like an indoor waterfall.

"Ooo. I've never been here before," Naomi awed as they walked around to recover from the biting cold breeze outside. "Now I know where to go on a cold day. Or maybe during a blizzard."

Bernard was surprised by the suggestion to come here. "I never took you for liking a place like this, Randall."

The lizard was a bit embarrassed at first. But in addition to simply enjoying a bit of relaxation now and then, there was some logic to it. "Don't make fun of me. Sam and I come here a lot during winter. On snowy days, it's basically the only way to get any energy during the day. Or else I have to sneak down to the factory's boiler room." Normally, Randall would feel awkward sharing this secret hideout with anyone. But having gained friends for life in these monsters, he trusted them not to laugh.

The receptionist called to them, having finished whatever computer task she had been doing. He hurried over and asked for one of the private sauna rooms, one of the family-sized ones with a reptilian section attached to it. There was a bit of delay while Naomi dawdled in the spa's shop, picking out the frilliest pink bathing suit she could find. Unlike Randall, Bernard and Becca, who opted to hang up their coats and scarves and go just as they were. Another employee led the group further into the facility. All the way down the hall, Becca was still a bit unsure if she wanted to be here. She kept looking around uneasily; a sauna really wasn't her type of place to be in.

Randall said simply, "Trust me; after all these cold snaps, this'll be worth it." He held the door and said with a hint of a dare, "Shall we?"

"Well…alright." She admitted defeat. "Why not? I'd much rather be at that new shooting range, but with this crazy cold snap going on, someplace warm sounds good, I guess."

The sauna was all wood in a stylish golden-brown color, with a large pedestal of hot rocks in the center, and a massive water jug for guests to pour for extra steam. The room was circular, with the bench winding all around, spare towels on some hooks, and wafts of steam floating around. Off to one side was another door; that one led to an extremely hot and humid room, more suited for reptilian monsters or for whoever wanted to risk getting steam burns. That was the area Randall and Sam liked the most. But he stayed here in the main room to be with his friends instead.

The gang all settled in quickly. There was something about it that made them all forgot their troubles as if they had never been. They hardly ever got the chance to relax these days. It was time to savor it while they could.

Randall stretched out on his back, with one set of arms behind his head and the other folded across his middle, totally at ease. Across from him, Bernard had the fake leg propped up and rested his massive gorilla-like frame against the wall. The gang had only been in the sauna for five minutes, and already he was sweating. "Ahh…this beats a biting cold wind." He commented to Randall as they both listened with amusement to Naomi and Becca's conversation.

"…So then the other cook did some lame attempt at flirting—sweet-talking or something else stupidly old-fashioned—right there in the middle of an order!" Naomi babbled on. "It was a seventy-five piece stack of pancakes, too, and I was soooo annoyed that this guy was delaying it that I just wanted to drop the frying pan and get the heck out of there! He's kind of a clown, and was joking around; that much was obvious. But during the lunch rush? I can't believe the nerve of some monsters…"

Randall couldn't resist remarking, "So what did you do?"

Becca responded differently. "Just hit him with the frying pan. Works every time."

"'Works every time?'" scolded Bernard. Then in a teasing tone added, "If you do that on a regular basis, young lady, don't make me discipline you for that temper."

"Once! I only hit someone with a frying pan _once_! And years ago!" she made clear. Turning back to Naomi, she mentioned, "Funny you should bring the subject up, Princess, because some idiot rookie in a Laugh class tried some cheesy lines on me not long ago. Boy, did I give him a talking to. One morning, I was heading to the training rooms. And since the Laugh training is just across the hall from the Scaring ones…"

As Becca went on with her own story, Randall blinked to see none other than Suzie sitting here, too. She had appeared right in the middle of the bench, between her sister and Bernard; neither of them made any sign of being able to see her. The girl looked incredibly annoyed. "Why are you all sitting around in a _sauna_ , of all places? Randall, you should be at home, making sure Sam is staying safe!"

He gave her a stern glare that plainly said: 'Please go away.' First of all, he wasn't about to go spying on his older brother every second of the day. Second, he wanted to hang out with the gang without being irritated by these repetitive warnings.

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" and then she was gone. That had to be the shortest ghostly visit ever.

"…Now the guy is so afraid of me that I doubt he'll ever come closer than ten feet. Nobody uses cheap lines on me. Especially not goody-goody clowns from the factory; so annoyingly cheerful and constantly getting on my nerves. They are the furthest things from my type, anyway."

Naomi and Bernard chuckled at the story. Randall did, too, and then asked an odd question. Something came over him and the words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he'd said. "So what is your type?"

The others went quiet with surprise, including Becca in a rare moment of—flattery? Surprise? It was hard to tell. She shrugged a casual recovery. "Good question. I was too busy raising Suzie to think about such things…" she drifted off a moment, thinking about her sister, then snapped back to focus. "…Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just—nothing." Randall instantly wished he could relive the moment. _Maybe there's too much steam in here. It's making me act weird…_

Thankfully the others went on talking about other things. Bernard gave more details about the permanent prosthetic leg that was in the works, while the girls listened in rapt attention. But Randall wanted to be alone and think for a few minutes. What he'd said a few minutes ago really wasn't like him. "I'm gonna chill in the next room for a bit, OK?" Getting up from the bench, he moved a little too quickly into the adjacent sauna. Perhaps too quick; quick enough to make it obvious that something was on his mind.

The connecting room was a specially-made version more catered towards reptilian monsters. It was the same shape as the main room, but instead of benches, there were enormous natural rocks arranged around the steam pedestal. They were roughly about the same size as lawn chairs and perfect for lounging on. This room felt like a hot, humid rainforest; its rocks walls retained so much more heat and were literally damp with moisture as steam drifted around. There were even a few tropical plants for decoration.

Randall was glad to find it empty. (Other doors connected it to other saunas.) The heat invigorated him and he quickly claimed the largest rock to stretch out on with a sigh of relief. For most monsters, the stone would be burning to touch, but he didn't even break a sweat. Now there were a few precious minutes of peace to think…

 _What the hell was_ that _back there? Why did I say that? I should know better than to ask_ Becca _of all monsters such things. Stupid…_

His conscience sensed the problem. _No big deal, really. They're your friends; they probably thought nothing of it. So just pretend it never happened._

 _But I honestly wanted to know the answer…I think?_ Randall shook his head and pulled at his fronds in confusion. _Ugh! What's wrong with me?_

The silent argument was interrupted by Naomi opening the door a crack to peek inside. She then came in to look around, causing her perfect lavender hair to go limp from the humidity. She instantly felt the effects of this room. The super-humid air made her sweat profusely in mere seconds. "Oh my goodness, this sauna is crazy! How can you lie on that thing? Aren't you cooking?" she pointed at Randall, who lay on his stomach on the giant rocks. She cautiously placed a hand on one. "Yeow! OK, this'll take some getting used to…How can you stand it?"

Randall reminded, "Used it to. Also, I can't sweat."

"Oh, right. So anyway, just thought I'd come in to check on you," Naomi kept trying to climb onto a rock, too, trying to tolerate the heat. "What was that back there?"

"I dunno…" Randall didn't bother denying it. They'd all heard it. "It's just—well—forget it ever happened, would you?"

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No!" He snapped. "There's been a lot on my mind lately; I just wasn't thinking straight, alright? Also, it's not that I don't trust you, Naomi, but you're not the best at keeping secrets, and I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"True, true. I am a bit too gossipy for my own good…" She nodded in agreement. "OK, then; I know better than to get on your bad side. Or Becca's, for that matter. She glared at me pretty hard when I tried bringing it up with her." Ignoring Randall's grimace of humiliation, she went on. "So let's just enjoy the sauna and forget about it! Do they have hot springs in this place? Or maybe a different-themed room that's a little less painful?" She jested as she finally managed to sit down on the burning-hot rocks while dripping with sweat.

She didn't last five minutes in the reptilian sauna room. Bernard also drifted in to check it out, and lasted longer, but had to retreat back to the less intense one. Becca, who had some reptilian blood, enjoyed the room quite a bit and stayed for a long time. She kept ahold of a water bottle to hydrate her scales from time to time, but she enjoyed the extra heat immensely. Randall was glad the gang had put the awkward moment from earlier behind them. Even while Becca was in the reptile room, too, there was no sign of her even remembering the odd comment. Good…they could all go back to simply enjoying each other's company.

But when all four of them congregated back in the wood-paneled room…Randall _did_ notice Becca looking at him more often with thoughtfulness in her eyes. Perhaps she remembered the moment a bit more clearly then he realized…

He made a private decision. _That's it. This has been going on long enough….I'm getting way too attached_ …all this sentimentality was a sure sign he was growing too soft. It just wasn't like him. _This is so confusing…And_ me, _of all monsters! Who else is a good secret-keeper around here?_

He desperately wanted to talk to someone and rationalize his conflicting thoughts. But he simply wasn't ready to talk to his friends about it…then one other monster came to mind whom he knew to be smart, straightforward, truthful and trustworthy…

…

Bernard, Naomi and Becca were such good friends that all awkwardness went away pretty quickly, and they acted like it had never happened. Randall was glad of this. But the urge to talk to someone besides them was strong. There was a lot he wanted to get off his chest.

Bernard, despite having a new right-leg prosthetic, still wasn't able to drive. So Naomi offered everyone rides home. Bernard and Becca were dropped off at the Brennen mansion first, and then it was just her and Randall going back to their own neighborhood. But he stayed quiet the whole time. All fingers were crossed that she wouldn't try to bring up another conversation. Naomi sensed what was going on and didn't bother him, lest he lose his temper. (He would probably would have anyway, if interrupted while deep in thought.)

Once at the Boggs' house, Randall got out and she waved goodbye while driving off, calling back that the sauna had been a great idea. Randall waved back casually until she was out of sight—Then he rushed up to the front door without a moment to waste.

There was an unexpected sight in the hall: Samuel was trying to push an enormous box upstairs. The thing was huge; it looked like a build-it-yourself bookcase, still packed up it its box, and destined to go up to Rex's room in the loft. The boy himself was standing nearby, watching his father struggle and trying not to laugh. It _was_ kind of a funny sight. Sam had only managed to push the heavy box as far as the base of the stairs and couldn't figure out how to get it up.

"Oh! Hey, Randall. Glad you're here." Sam noticed him come in. "I just bought this bookcase for Rex; didn't think how I'd get it upstairs, though. Can you help me?"

"Dad said I'm too little to help." Rex pouted. He sounded offended at being called 'little.' After all, he _was_ five years old, now.

Randall blinked. "Why didn't you just take the box apart and bring the pieces up one at a time?"

Sam blinked back. He stared at the giant box. "…So I hauled this thing around for nothing?"

After Rex's long laughing spree, Randall helped unpack everything and the chore of getting a bookcase upstairs—even if in pieces—was done in no time. It was now or never; he had to talk to Sam before he starting this building project. So the request was asked quite bluntly, "Sam, I have to talk to you."

"My, sounds serious!" Sam thought it was a joke at first. Then realized Randall wasn't kidding. "Oh. OK, then. Rex, could you give us some space?"

"Aw…'Kay." The boy whined and went to claim the armchair in the living room.

Sam raised a brow. "A little farther, Rex. Maybe up to your room? And no eavesdropping, OK? I trust you, and it's wrong to break trust. Remember?" The unspoken warning not to go invisible and sneak around the house was impossible not to notice.

"Oh, alright. I'll go play with my trucks." And Rex crossed his heart not to be around and scurried up to the loft.

Sam waited several minutes, listening to the sound of his son playing with the toy cars up there before deeming it safe to talk in private. He and Randall walked into the kitchen, just for some extra distance. He even put a tattooed hand on his brother's shoulder. A sure sign that he sensed something was amiss. "What's going on? Did something else happen today? I thought the interview went great—"

"Yeah, it did. I even made peace with my worst enemy. But this isn't about that," Randall began, sitting in his favorite spot on the windowseat while Sam took a chair. "Something has been on my mind. Something really strange, on and off ever since we all went to visit Dad at the observatory, and…well…" He trailed off, unsure how to explain. _Ugh. How do I explain this without sounding stupid?_

But Sam guessed what was up. "Oh! This is about Becca, isn't it?"

Randall stared blankly. How did he figure that out so fast?

"Oh, come on, Randall, I'm very observant. Plus, Naomi and Bernard have been wondering along those lines over the last few months. No major assumptions, though, so don't get mad, alright?" Sam reassured, in case Randall took offense. "Both of them have especially noticed how strong your friendship's gotten; after all, you've saved her life twice, work in the same building and have been helping her through her grief. It's so surprise you've gotten so close. But both of you are so hot-tempered and the most stubborn monsters I know, so—"

"Quiet! Just shut up, will you?" Randall interrupted, not surprised that Sam had learned of Becca's more recent suicide attempt in the Human World swamps. "Don't you realize what you're saying?"

But his brother remained calm, as usual. "Sure! You're beginning to like her as more than just an ordinary friend, am I right?"

"No! I can't be!" came Randall's insistent response. Suddenly he was embarrassed by this whole thing. "This is _me_ we're talking about, remember? Randall Boggs, former foe involved in human-kidnapping conspiracies? Almost killed James P. Sullivan in a mad chase around the factory door vault?"

"That was two and a half years ago. You're changed since then and everyone's seen it. Didn't you see the crowds today and how differently they treated you? The turnout at the interview proved that you're reformed, now."

"I guess…" That had been the highlight of the day, really. It sure felt different to be respected for something good instead of having everyone hate and fear him. Weird, but nice.

Sam returned to his brother's problem. "So you've confessed your inner turmoil; shows that even a monster like you is capable of feelings. There's nothing to be ashamed of; it happens to almost everybody. So what are you going to do about it?"

This was his brother's idea of advice? Just throwing more questions? "Absolutely nothing." Randall crossed every arm in retaliation. "I've worked too hard to get where I am; going soft is the last thing I need. And besides, it might make our friendship weird. I don't want to ruin it, not when Becca is still getting over Suzie being gone."

Instead of outright advice, Sam threw even more questions to think about. "What if it doesn't 'get weird?' Or what if—"

"Quiet! That's my decision and don't use your psychology mind tricks on me. If I do nothing, there are no risks and no harm done. Everything will stay just the way it is."

"Well, alright…" Sam looked a bit disappointed. "This could be a happy thing you're turning down, you know. But if you insist on ignoring it…you're free to do that."

"I intend to." Randall nodded abruptly. "And Sam; don't tell a _soul_ about this conversation…you won't, will you?" There was a sudden realization that he'd just confessed something very personal. How humiliating…

But Sam solemnly raised his tattooed arm and put his other hand over his heart. "I give you my word not only as a shrink, but also as your brother: I promise _never_ to tell a soul about this conversation." Pushing for more information wouldn't be the best thing to do. Randall wasn't one to share his thoughts, so this was very unusual. Better to take it step by step, making sure he didn't feel so uncomfortable about it all. Randall was improving himself more and more every day, even recovering from Suzanne McKeen's death himself. Having actually _been_ then when Suzie died must have been hard…But he was handling it surprisingly well.

Little did Samuel Boggs know that Suzie hadn't really left…

Dinner was a rushed job of spaghetti with liver meatballs. Rex and Sam wolfed it down, but Randall barely spoke for the rest of the evening. He just wanted to get to his room and forget about the weirdness from the time at the sauna. _Why_ , oh why did he say that? Five simple words and he was a wreck…worry and dread creeped over him slowly, just like the layer of frost that was slowly forming on the windowpane…

Once alone in his room, Randall surveyed the effects of the chill in the air. Frost was making its mark on the glass was coming up fast…he decided to stay inside again tonight. A bit disappointing to have to trade the solid, sturdy, safe haven of the backyard tree for a bed, but he supposed he'd adapt in time. He talked to himself while cranking up the radiator. "Spending all those winter nights in the Human World must've done something to me…"

"Yeah, they sure did. I can't believe you _still_ enjoy sleeping in trees!" Suzie blinked into sight when he turned around.

"Wonderful…How long have you been hanging around?" Randall groaned with sarcasm.

"Long enough to listen in on that nice heart-to-heart with your brother. Is all that really true? I had no idea!" she smiled. Then reassured Randall as he started turning pink with humiliation. "I won't even tell Rex about it, if that'll make you feel better."

"Suzie, this whole thing with Becca will pass. Besides, I'm not the relationship type." Randall insisted, walking around the room to find a heated blanket for the impending cold night. "It's way too sappy. In college, I tried the whole dating thing during the first few years—a couple girls here, a couple guys there, but no one really liked me that much. It was doomed to fail. Then I got too busy with studies to even bother. And right now, the most important thing to think about is this big upgrade to the factory. I'm overseeing the entire thing! Things have been mended enough for Sullivan to trust me with this, and I can't ruin it."

Suzie lent him rant on. When he was done, she nodded solemnly, accepting his decision for now. "OK…I understand. Like Sam said, nobody's gonna force you." But then she then spat out, "But remember the upcoming disaster?"

"The big premonition you think will happen soon? Yeah, I remember. You've only reminded me _ten dozen times_." Randall echoed from the closet, still looking for that blanket.

"I know… _Please_ be on the lookout for anything strange." She swiftly disappeared and re-appeared in random spots as he moved around the room. "Sam's involved, somehow; I don't know what'll happen, but it's coming up soon. We've already had enough to deal with, helping Becca and her depression. But Sam could be in real trouble. I'll talk some more about it later, alright?"

She left it at that and blinked out of sight without another word. That was weird. Randall was left staring at thin air, surprised by the quick exit. Maybe all the serious talk was too much for both of them.

He sighed. All the good feelings from today were being replaced: the successful interview, the tranquil time with the gang, and confiding some turmoil to Sam… all replaced with trepidation. Suzie was so _sure_ of this premonition; she was even forgetting to recite her usual corny jokes whenever she appeared. Randall finally found the heated blanket in the back of a drawer and tried to settle down for a well-deserved sleep. Never mind all the pointless conflicting thoughts; if the ghost was correct, there would definitely be more important things to focus on. If only they both knew what this disaster was going to be…

 **To answer any questions, YES, there is going to be a Randall/OC here. I've been wanting to do this since my first Monsters story, so I've literally been planning this for YEARS. But it's not really the main focus of this fic, anyway, with the main plot of Suzie finding a reason to move on, and all the other side-plots happening. Trust me, it'll work. I'm good at making my ideas come to fruition without sounding terrible!**

 **Why are you stopping? This is a double update! :)**


	23. The Premonition

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Premonition

There were indeed more important things to focus on in the time that followed. Official renovations began at the factory to install Randall's new invention. One Floor at a time. Still to his surprise, Sullivan gave him the task of overseeing everything, and such a responsibility felt like an immense step in the right direction. Finally. Monsters trusted him enough not to screw everything up…Randall was glad that all the effort to reform himself had paid off. The path had been long and hard…but worth it.

When the news interview aired on TV, there was a big gathering at the Brennens' to watch it in their home theater. (Naomi, Randall and Becca all wondered _when_ they had built an actual movie theater in their house. With elevated seats and everything.) There hadn't been much editing, and showing shots of the onlookers who'd been watching that day added to the hype about the new machine. Randall was pleased to see that his on-screen self didn't look too nerdy. The narrow rectangular glasses he'd been wearing prevented that squint, and he looked and sounded somewhat professional. He was half-camouflaged into the chair by the time the story was finished…but his nerves calmed down when everyone—the Brennens, his brother and nephew, Becca, and Naomi—gave nothing but support.

So in the days that followed, Randall carried on with life quite favorably. Things were only going up from here.

But he still noted Suzie's dire warning. A part of him still doubted, but just in case she _was_ right, he tried to be aware of anything odd or out-of-the-ordinary. Since Sam worked two jobs as a teacher and counsellor, respectively, it was hard to keep tabs on him every minute of every day. Suzie had taken to following him around, it seemed. All that week, she blinked into view at the weirdest times to give Randall a thumbs-up or something, and then disappear again. One time she actually showed up while Randall was having a serious discussion with Fungus and some other mechanics on the Scare Floor. He almost spoke aloud for her to get lost. (Stopping himself in time, though.) All of her pestering was rather annoying, he could tell she was being super-serious about this. She hadn't recited any jokes for days. She didn't even seem to want to talk; not even to Rex. Her fear was beginning to border on paranoia.

Over a week went by, and nothing unusual happened. He puzzled over the premonition one night…How soon was 'soon,' anyway? Suzie was dead…time didn't really matter anymore. 'Soon' could mean anything to a ghost…

So Randall went on working, eating, sleeping, exercising, spending time with the gang, all the usual stuff. If any trouble happened, Suzie could just pop in and warn him like before, right?

At Bernard's house one morning, Randall and Naomi dropped by for breakfast as they so often did. It would have been nicer if they could go outside. But eating breakfast outside on a frosty lawn wouldn't have been much fun.

Nicholas and Lucy had already left for the docks, taking little Penny with them, leaving the mansion of a house relatively quiet. In the kitchen, Naomi was stirring some odd-smelling pancake mix with vigor, while Bernard walked around the room on his temporary prosthetic. He had been practicing hard. The thing had only been given to him a week ago, and already he had adapted well. There was only a faint trance of unevenness in his step as he fought to balance properly, but at least there was no need for crutches anymore.

"You're really getting the hang of that thing," Randall said, monitoring Bernard's progress as he half-walked, half-limped around the kitchen. "When the permanent version is built, you'll be more than ready for it at this rate. Is that one holding up alright?"

"Better than ever!" Bernard smiled. He made a small jump to demonstrate the prosthetic's strength. Even though it was only basic, it was good and sturdy, able to support his heavy frame. "Feels a bit weird; kind of like a stilt or something. But it doesn't even hurt! I never thought I'd be able to walk normally again…you know, I'm glad that boat accident happened!"

There was a horrified, dramatic gasp from Naomi as she dropped the whisk. "How can you say that?!"

"That came out wrong," Bernard hurriedly reassured. "What I meant was—um—it's great to have a leg that works properly. The old one just never healed after that fall down a cliff."

"Oh my gosh, that wasn't fun, either!" Naomi was still traumatized by the boat accident as it was. Memories of Bernard getting lost and injured in Yellowstone Park were just as bad.

Randall saved the day from going sour. "Let's change the subject. Want any help with the pancakes?"

"No thanks, I want to practice this on my own. It's something new I came up with; it'll be perfect for my next chef exam. If it turns out any good, that is…" Naomi started dolloping batter into a giant frying pan.

Having some time to just hang out and unwind made everyone happy. Even Randall, who was adamant at keeping his emotions in check these days. Ever since that awkward afternoon at the sauna, and talking to Sam about it afterwards, he prayed it would never be brought up again. That proved to be wrong when he asked another harmless question. "Hey, is Becca ever coming downstairs?"

"Why?" Naomi grinned teasingly.

"I'm pretty sure she was up late; I heard her going up and down the stairs several times in the night. Best to let her sleep in, or else face her wrath." said Bernard. Then he smiled, amused by the thought. "Unless you're prepared for a good argument, Randall."

"Any idea why she couldn't sleep?" Naomi pushed, again using the same teasing tone of voice. "You know, I saw a movie where the girl couldn't sleep, because she was so confused about—"

"Hey! If this is some sort of lame attempt at mocking me, it's _not funny_." Randall said angrily. Naomi bit her lip, flipping the pancakes over, but still holding back a few giggles. He glanced over at Bernard, annoyed with him, too. What were they playing at; dropping hints, or something? Then, with impeccable timing, Becca strolled into the kitchen. She stretched with a yawn and smiled at the scent of fresh pancakes for breakfast. Before she could even say 'hi,' Randall immediately begged her, "Finally you're here! These two are driving me crazy! Talk some sense into them, would you?"

"Sure." She agreed, despite having no idea what was going on. "Bernard, knock it off. And you," turning to Naomi at the stove. "Shove it."

 _Whew._ Having a tough friend sure came in handy sometimes. Yet at the same time, Randall worried about that one mistake he'd made that day. But it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. He'd keep putting a stop to Naomi and Bernard's subtle teasing, ignore it, and things would go back to normal. With the resolve in place, the whole gang was able to have a pancake breakfast without anyone making outlandish accusations. Just the way things were supposed to be.

…

Scare Floor A was like a construction zone of wires, metal, and welding tools. The upgrades were going to happen one Floor at a time, including the Laugh Floors. That would be a lot of work and hopefully completed by the New Year if the building stage was kept on schedule. Randall was in charge of the entire operation. Wearing his glasses and hardhat, he instructed the other mechanics on what to do if they got stuck. The new stations were a complicated design, so he tried to be as patient as possible. (Not easy.) Having authority over the entire maintenance team was a lot of pressure…but he was settling into the role slowly. Fungus had been made the co-supervisor of the team and was a big help when it came to wiring and putting the control panels together. Randall was grateful for the help. (Of course he never said so aloud in favor of keeping his reputation intact.)

He helped with some of the work, too, so as to set a good example, and took the time to double-check everything the team did. No major problems had occurred so far. _Only a few days in and we're ahead of schedule already_ …he went over to the table of blueprints near the entrance of the Floor. _Hmm…maybe we can run the first test run this afternoon_ …planning was interrupted by a looming shadow over the table.

Annoyed, he looked up with a frown. Oh. It was Sullivan.

The big blue monster surveyed the room while nodding. He seemed impressed with the work done so far. A few of the station frames had already been fully replaced with the upgraded ones. "How's it going down here?"

"Fine." Randall said bluntly. Sullivan looked like he wanted more of a review then just 'fine,' so he went on. "A few hiccups, but no one's been electrocuted yet. This is complicated stuff, after all. But the work's going well."

"Keep it up, then. Here," Sullivan handed over a clipboard of paperwork. "I'll need a full report on how much progress has been made by the end of the day. Thanks for being up to supervising all of this, Randall. Looks like everything's going great."

Randall nodded once. "You're welcome."

Sullivan left the Floor to let the team get back to work. And that was that; another brief interaction with his old rival. _That wasn't so bad. Just be civil from now on and you won't take a step backwards and make things worse_. His conscience advised _. You're reformed now, remember?_

 _Yeah, I guess I am._ Randall agreed. He turned back to face the team of monsters in hardhats, slowly transforming the Floor. The new models really did look nice. _You know, conscience, I wouldn't trade anything for this fresh start. For the first time in ages, I think I'm starting to feel happy._

…

Another sharp cold snap came without warning. This one was much more intense. Randall was so sluggish that he had to spend even more time indoors with a heater turned way up, and even less nights sleeping in the backyard tree. He was being forced to slowly get used to a bed again. Warm, yes. Comfy? Not really...The solid safety of a tree felt much better.

On one of these bitter and frosty mornings, Randall woke up to the sound of Suzie berating him for sleeping. "Finally, you're up! I've been up all night waiting to talk to you! This is no time for sleeping!"

"Do ghosts even _have_ to sleep anymore?" Randall sat up, rubbing his eyes and exasperated that she didn't understand the meaning of privacy.

"No, but that's beside the point." She immediately began pacing around his bedroom, unable to keep still. "I've got to warn you, Randy: Today's the day. It's gonna happen _today_ , I just know it! Your brother is in real big trouble…you'll save him like you did Becca, right?"

"Whoa, slow down. OK…um…" the sudden urgency and wake-up call made him trail off in confusion. "I might, if I only knew what to save him _from_." Suzie wrung her hands and didn't really calm down, so he tried to sound more understanding. "Look, how are you so sure this disaster is _that_ serious?"

"Because the feeling is so big today that I'm starting to wonder if other monsters will be involved…"

The panic in her eyes was real…Randall took great pity on her fear and decided to form a plan. Even if it was only to ease her mind. He hadn't been able to save Suzie's life; reassuring her that nothing else bad would happen was the least he could do. "Then here's what we'll do: I'll keep a close eye on Sam today when I can, alright? Obviously I can't follow him around every minute; there are a lot of important things I have to do today, with the Floor upgrades and all. So you'll have to lend a hand and come warn me if anything happens. Sound like a plan?"

Suzie took a long, deep breath. Randall had gotten up and was standing quite close; yet when she exhaled, he did not feel any breath. She then nodded with a deep sigh to calm herself. "Yes. I'll come and get you…You should be careful too. Just in case."

 _Boy, she really sounds scared._ This was a far cry from the cheerful, joke-cracking bookworm Suzie he was used to. Randall blinked and she was gone again. _More sudden disappearances…is that another sign of disaster? Wish there was a ghost manual to follow…_

She reappeared in the kitchen, just off to the side to watch what was happening. This morning's routine was nothing special. Sam was catching bread as it popped out of the toaster, while frying eggs at the same time. (A big pile of different-sized monstrous eggs sat in a bowl, all with different colored shells and yolks.) Rex was at the table, curiously flipping through one of the French dictionaries that Randall was studying. The boy probably had no idea what it said.

He put the book back with the others on the windowseat. "Morning, Uncle Randy! Dad's making eggs on toast. Want some? There're lots of colors."

"Uh—sure." Randall said with some hesitation, too distracted by his thoughts to fully pay attention. He ate a green egg on toast robotically so as to appear normal. If the sharp-eyed Sam and Rex realized something was up, he'd never hear the end of it.

The elder Boggs brother was in a great mood. Whenever he was in a good mood, he tended to get very talkative. "You won't believe what I get to do today, Randall," he said before even beginning his own breakfast. "The college is asking me to help with a study! It's something about work-related stress. Nothing up your alley, I know, but I'm pumped. This means my professional reputation is growing, and I get to go all over the factory today, making observations."

 _Observations? Great. That means wandering all over the place._ Randall feigned being glad for him. "Cool. Does this happen often?"

"Nah. Seeing the laughers at work should be interesting, though. I hear Mike Wazowski is the top one; doubt there'll be any stress on those Floors. But I wonder what the coaching classes will look like…Becca's have become quite famous, from what I've heard from scarers talking in the cafeteria…"

So Sam had a busy schedule today. Maybe that was a stroke of luck? If there was to be a lot of spying on him, perhaps being distracted by work would be a good thing. On the other hand…keeping him 'out of trouble' would prove to be a challenge. _If he's going to be everywhere and anywhere today, this chore just got a lot harder_. He made eye contact with Suzie. She was still standing by the fridge, fidgeting nervously. He nodded ever so slightly to remind her of their plan. _Good thing I have the help of a ghost._

…

"OK, losers, get out of here!" Becca announced to the dozen scary monsters at the end of class. They stared for a moment, not knowing if they had made her angry or not…She sighed at their lack of a sense of humor. "I'm kidding! Lighten up, already. You're all dismissed. If anyone else needs to brush up on jump scares, don't hesitate to book another lesson. I don't want to see any more half-hearted attempts, so put more effort into practicing in the future, OK?"

The training room had the animatronic simulation dialed to 'super-extra hard' difficulty. The group of monsters who had come in for brush-up lessons were indeed a frightening bunch: multiple eyes, jagged fangs, deep voiced-roars and wails, and one guy had a frill around his neck and could hiss like a demented dinosaur when it flared out. Becca really didn't look so intimidating standing next to all these monsters. Until she raised her voice and started coaching, that is.

A few monsters lingered in the room to chat with one another, while she shut down the simulator. There was some time to kill before the next round came in. "Only one more coaching session before lunch…" Becca said after checking the schedule. Suddenly, there came the weird feeling of being watched. Out of the corner of her eye, there was a glimpse of something moving…

One of the swiveling chairs was spinning around of its own accord. It was a bit of a funny sight. She spoke up, "What brings you here, you little bugger? Here to take a class?"

"Nah. Just came to visit." The one-fronged, four-armed form of Rex appeared. The boy kept on spinning in the chair quite happily. "Whatcha doing?"

"I was about to take a break. And it looks like I'll be spending it taking you back to where you belong."

Rex tried to go invisible again, but he only blended to the red color of the chair. He was too tired from the long bout of hiding to try again.

Becca watched with amusement before taking one of his hands. "C'mon; let's get you back. Nice attempt, though; the daycare is pretty far from here." She knew there were several mazes of hallways between here and there, plus the main foyer. "Honestly, how do those ladies manage you if you keep sneaking out?"

"Aw, I just wanted to watch a scaring class! I heard they're fun!" Rex whined as they left the training room. He waved to some of the big scary-looking guys, who waved back. The group recognized him, for this wasn't the first time Randall Boggs' nephew made a great escape. Some of them even found it hilarious.

While going through the main foyer, the front doors of the factory opened as someone went through. This let a blast of icy cold air breeze all through the room. The cold snap was only a reminder of the early winter approaching. Becca shivered a little, weaving through the crowd of monsters and keeping a firm grip on Rex so he wouldn't slip away again. But the boy's energy went down fast with that biting wind. He walked slower and dragged his four feet along with great effort. "Ugh. I wish Dad would let me go to the sauna with you guys. Then I'd have much more dynamism. But he says I'm too little."

"At least he gives you a good vocabulary…" Becca was impressed by the five-year-old's brains. He sure fit into the Boggs' family intellect.

"I know! I can sneak in when you guys go back there! Is it nice and warm inside?"

"Of course it's nice and warm, why else would—"

"Did you go to the room with the rocks like what Uncle Randy described? He said it's like a rainforest in there."

"Enough with the questions, Rex." Becca led him through another hallway. "C'mon. I have to get back before my next class."

He sulked, disappointed at not being allowed to watch the scarers practice. He piped up again before the daycare's doors came in sight. "You know, Miss Becca, you act all mean and stuff, but you're actually real nice when you want to be. Just like Dad and Uncle Randy said."

"They've been telling stories about me, now?" Becca was surprised, but kept acting normal. "That's flattering, I guess…"

"Uh huh. Only good stories, though. They're real happy you're not so sad anymore…" Rex blinked a few times, looking around in hope the ghost of Suzie would appear, but she didn't. She had been kind of aloof lately. "Are you feeling better, even though your sister's not here?"

There was a silent pause. The atmosphere of the factory kept on going: the voices of nearby monsters talking, announcements being made over the speakers, that sort of thing. They filled the void as Becca thought of how to answer. "I'll always miss her. She was my only family…but…yes. I'm feeling better. Just a little."

Rex smiled. "Good." He'd take that as a great answer.

The double doors to the daycare were decorated with bright paint and a colorful border. Along the nearby sections of wall were drawings that the kids had made. Rex pointed out his own crayon creation as Becca took him inside.

The two ladies in charge were sweet and kind middle-aged monsters, the sort no one would ever imagine to ever lose their tempers or say a bad word about anybody. They watched over toddler-aged monsters, mostly, for any single parents in the factory, or for whoever hadn't found a sitter. The daycare was a decent size; a spacious room with tons of toys, games, paints and easels, and other activities. There were cartoon cut-outs on the walls, a semi-mess of stuffed animals strewn about on the floor, and just the general kid-friendly mess that one would expect here.

There were a few older children in the four-to-five-years old range. Most of them were well-behaved and sitting quietly at a table, coloring. Rex was about to go join them, when he noticed that his father was in the room, too. "Hi, Dad!"

The two ladies' whom Sam was speaking with widened their eyes in relief and shock. _Why_ did Rex keep on doing this like it was no big deal? Neither of them said anything, for Sam quickly reassured them. "I'll have another talk with him. So sorry about this. Again." He came over sternly, but not angrily, crossed his single pair of arms, and looked down at Rex. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothin.'" The boy grinned mischievously.

"'Nothing' my tail. This is the last time, Rex. Thanks for finding him, Becca," he took Rex by the hand and led him further into the room. "Let's go apologize. Now, I want you to understand some of the places in this building aren't safe…"

Becca left the father and son to have their serious talk. She returned to the hallway, still amused by the kid's playfulness, yet worried for his safety at the same time. "What'll happen when that kid starts kindergarten?" she wondered.

Then, another unexpected sight was found just around the corner. She almost missed it because of the camouflage Randall was in: the exact same colors of the wall. And he was acting strangely…half-peeking around the corner as if waiting for something. Becca's suspicions were raised. "You're up to something, Genius." She accused, walking over. He flinched at getting caught and reverted back to purple, not bothering to disappear completely. "I just caught your nephew who was wandering around and up to no good. What are _you_ doing?"

"Nothing. Just spying on my brother." Randall admitted.

"Um, why? This whole thing you've got going on with the new upgrades is great, and Sam's been very supportive—"

Randall tried to think up some sort of explanation. Even if only a mediocre, half-made-up one. "There's just something I have to tell him. Something important; I'd rather not go into details, if you don't mind."

Becca chuckled. "Cool. Get back to it, then. I'll get the truth out of you later…" then she went on her way. Suddenly, an idea came to her and she spun around. "Hey, wait a second; before you go running off doing 'nothing'…do you remember that new shooting and archery range I mentioned?" the words were out before she could even think about them. "There're open this afternoon. The ranges are indoors, with all the latest tech and everything. I was going to check it out after work. Want to come with me?"

"Today? Well…" That sounded like fun, actually. But Suzie's warning had been adamant. He thought fast for an excuse. "Can't today. There's a lot of work to do regarding the upgrades. Paperwork to catch up on and other boring stuff." _That's true, at least. Besides, that darn ghost said to keep an eye on Sam today. No distractions, no matter what._

Becca's gold-speckled face fell slightly. "Alright; we'll save it for another time…no big deal." Although a bit disappointed, she didn't show it. "See you at lunch then; any monsters at our regular table I'll kick out, as per usual."

As Becca left and turned the corner, Randall watched her go with mixed emotions. _Hm…maybe I should've said yes. It's not like I'm doing this 'spy on Sam' mission alone_ …Suzie blinked into view at the other end of the hallway. She was too far away to speak and only waved him off to indicate she would take over for a while. The ghost went all ninja-mode and tiptoed through the door, (which was closed) into the room where Sam and Rex were probably still apologizing to the daycare workers and having a serious talk about stranger-danger.

All of this sneaking around was starting to give Randall feelings of guilt. _Spying on my own brother for reasons I don't even understand. It all feels wrong_ …He began strolling briskly back to the main foyer. The team of maintenance workers couldn't continue working without his expertise. The giant clock on the wall wouldn't read 'noon' for a while, yet. Time seemed to be ticking by ever so slowly…Randall squinted at the numbers in anguish. Was Suzie right or wrong about today _? Sam's been fine all morning; so far, so good._ _Only two-thirds of the day left…Nothing bad could happen in that time, right?_

…

Several more hours passed by in a haze. With him having to be on Scare Floor A to supervise the work, it was hard to sneak away to check on Sam. Well, it wasn't _really_ hard with natural camouflaging abilities, but the maintenance monsters would notice if he was gone for too long. So Randall made the check-ins quick and not too frequent. He'd ditch the hardhat, slip away, and try to seek out his brother in hopes that he'd be nearby.

It was no easy task when Sam was moving around the factory. That psychology study he was doing really covered a lot of ground.

Randall noticed a pattern, though: Sam was moving in alphabetical order, starting with the Scare Floors, then on to the Laugh Floors. Easy. He didn't bother staying invisible the entire time; there were too many monsters crowding the halls, too many bodies to bump into. Sam probably wouldn't even see him…

When Randall crept to the entrance of Laugh Floor D in mid-afternoon, he squinted to see Sam talking to a jovial monster dressed in a clown costume. (What a disgrace, but oh well. If Laugh generated lots of power, there was nothing to protest against.) Suddenly, Sam looked up after writing a few notes.

Randall pretended he was merely sauntering by the Floor entrance by sheer coincidence. It would have worked…if only Sam hadn't gotten suspicious. Cue the ever observant-ness…He set his tablet down at a workstation and promptly melted away into thin air.

 _Uh oh…Time to go._ Randall disappeared, too, and started to scurry back to where he was actually supposed to be right now. If he hugged the walls, no one would bump into him—but Sam appeared out of nowhere to block his path. _Dang it._

"I know you're there, Randall." Sam's single pair of arms crossed as he stared at nothing.

The elder brother had run like crazy in order to get the other cornered. Randall materialized sheepishly. A few passing monsters gave the brothers odd looks; it was rare seeing the two together, and with an obvious argument about to break out? Not good. Randall cast his classic 'evil eye glare' at everyone to tell them to get lost. There was a tense stand-off stare between the brothers as all passersby gave them a wide berth.

"What's up with you today? Why are you following me around?" Sam demanded. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"Uh…that's a bit complicated." Randall replied. It was useless to lie. Sam could always tell when someone was lying, even with someone as skilled as Randall.

"Oh, please, it's not complicated. Just tell me what I've done to deserve getting spied on."

"You haven't done anything wrong, it's just a complicated story—" A lifesaver appeared at that moment. Coming down the hall was Fungus pushing through the crowd. The red monster looked frantic while waving a blueprint. He was coming straight this way; something must need some attention back on the jobsite.

Randall snatched at the opportunity to get out of here. "Sorry, but I'll tell you later, Sam. They're probably looking for me back on the Scare Floor." And he scampered away on six limbs, leaving Sam standing there speechless and entirely confused.

As he left, Randall glanced over his shoulder. His brother looked perplexed, but wasn't following, at least. _Whew. Saved. That was close…_ All this spying was quite tiring, making him rethink this whole strategy _. Maybe I outta warn about the premonition. In his counselling office, he's legally bound not to tell anyone…I could confess that I'm seeing ghosts…_

But he realized just how crazy that sounded.

Fungus began rambling on about how the new stations' installation was going, and that the team had reached a point of extreme confusion regarding the hydraulics and needed help, pronto. Randall responded with expert technical knowhow. In the back of his mind, he kept thinking about the encounter with Sam; reconsideration came. _Or maybe not. Having my own brother think I'm crazy isn't worth it._

…

Long after the final whistle of the day had blown, Randall finally left the factory in a state of euphoria. Yes! What a liberation it was to simply stand on the steps outside and take a few deep breaths. Nothing terrible had happened all day! Work had been productive—he'd really enjoyed being in charge of the entire operation—Suzie had shown up from time to time, but hadn't annoyed him, and Sam was just fine. The elder Boggs brother even looked happy, playing with Rex while waiting at the bus stop. Randall couldn't ask for a better sight. _So much for ghostly warnings…_

Many monsters were gathered at the bus stop as well, all bundled up in warm coats and scarves to fight the chill in the air. One big guy slipped on a patch of ice; there was a definite rumble in the pavement when he fell. Randall tried not to slip too, as he crossed the parking lot to join his brother and nephew.

"Hi! I half-expected you to run off with Becca this afternoon." Sam greeted.

Randall wasn't sure how to respond. All these weird comments about him and Becca were really getting on his nerves. While he wasn't completely opposed to the idea, did everyone have to egg him on like this? He ignored the comment. "It's been quite a day. I just want to get home."

"Fair enough. Cold weather doesn't help, am I right?" Sam joked. It was an honest fact that absolutely _no one_ in the Boggs family enjoyed winter.

"And now we're stuck waiting on ice-covered ground. Why'd you have the car towed to the shop _today_ , of all days? I could've fixed it."

"Yeah. But you've been so busy, and I need it fixed by tomorrow. So the bus is our only option. Sorry." Sam pointed out, ignoring the fact that Randall was trying to argue. "I'm supposed to go to the college with the data I've collected for the study. It was fun going around the factory, visiting others for a change. Wanna hear about my day? It's full of fun work-related-stress-studying facts; you're favorite topic!"

"Ha ha, you have the world's greatest sarcasm…" Randall frowned. Meanwhile, Rex giggled at their bantering.

Randall then noticed the forest-green form of Becca running across the parking lot. A patch of black ice made her slip, but she recovered and joined the crowd at the bus stop, too. They were surprised to see her, but Randall wasn't complaining. "I thought you wanted to check out that new shooting range. They have both archery and firearm practice there, don't they?"

"Yes, but it's no fun by myself. I tried rounding up the others, but Bernard's going to the doc about his prosthetic, and Princess Naomi has a chef's exam this afternoon. You know what she's like; once it's over and done with, she'll be so excited that we'll never hear the end of it. I'd rather go to the range with you anyway, Genius. You're better competition."

"Sounds fine by me. How 'bout tomorrow, then?"

As the city bus rolled up and monsters began filing in slowly, they made plans. Tomorrow afternoon would be nice; it never got boring when they were both honing their target practicing skills. Especially when it came to archery, Randall's favorite branch of the sport.

The four of them climbed inside. He was aware of Suzie blinking into view, too.

The ghost stood in the middle of the aisle, letting other monsters pass. Although she stepped out of the way by habit, a few strangers walked right through her. Since it was crowded, Randall couldn't make eye contact right away. Only after he'd grabbed a seat did he do so.

The girl was still acting irrationally nervous; still scared of something unforeseen happening. But he was positive things were going to be fine. The day was almost over, and everyone was in one piece, weren't they? He wanted to speak up and tell her to relax. Something about her behavior was making him nervous…the way she kept glancing around every which way, as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows…and she was all-too quiet.

Randall tried to silently communicate, but it was no use. Suzie was becoming oblivious to everything except her own fear. It was quite disturbing.

Rex climbed into a seat beside Sam. He looked at Suzie too and almost waved hello—then remembered to act like the ghost wasn't there. Even he noticed her behavior and looked to Randall for answers. But on the full bus, with lots of prying eyes and ears, his uncle could only shrug.

The bus was packed like a tin can of sardines. It was lucky that the rows running alongside the windows were free. Randall and Becca had grabbed them before it was too late, while Sam and Rex sat in the opposite row, facing them and swaying back and forth in time with the bus's movements as it rolled along. Some passengers made idle chatter. (A big guy who resembled a giant slimy fly was taking up an entire back row, and speaking in such a way that spit flicked onto neighboring passengers.)

The nearby conversations hadn't deterred Rex from listening in on his uncle's plans, however. "Are you guys going out tomorrow?" he leaned forward to ask Becca curiously.

Becca faltered and glanced at Randall to consider her reply. "Uh…I guess so. Just like we always do."

Rex made a disappointed face. "Oh. But I'm getting tired of dropping hints and asking all these questions! I thought that—"

"Enough of that, Rex." Sam interrupted. "Remember that other talk we had about nosiness and minding our own business?" Rex nodded. "Good! So let's forget about it and change the subject. Randall, what was it you wanted to tell me earlier?"

 _Oh. Right. That episode of getting caught spying. Why did I have to make up such a lame excuse? I could've thought up a million better ones…_ He tried to think up another reason to delay it. He still couldn't decide if it was wise to tell Sam about Suzie, so for now: how to delay it? "Um…"

Sam guessed it must be something important. So in a cool and understanding way, he suggested, "Save it for later?"

"If you don't mind." _Good. There's still time to think about it_ …Randall brainstormed while observing the other passengers. Suzie was still in the middle of the aisle. Her jumpiness had changed; now she was standing as still as a statue. Only her eyes darted around. As if waiting in terror for something to happen…

Not for the first time, Randall wondered what this 'terrible event' could be. It couldn't be as bad as Becca's suicide attempts, could it?

His brother in the meantime, was in a happy mood and talking across the aisle to Becca, all about his day. Not having the chance to leave the counselling office that often, it had been great being able to wander the factory and see just how crazy things could be on the Floors. His study on work-related stress was completely irrelevant on the Laugh Floors, it seemed. He rambled on for a good ten minutes about the pranks, jokes, circus acts, and all-around antics monsters had done today. "…so they started putting on an entire show just to prove I wasn't needed! No one really understood why I was there. They probably thought I'd be a carbon copy of you, Randall," Sam teased, knowing many of the laughers had never met the brother of Randall Boggs.

There was a moment of exasperation for Randall when Becca and Rex chuckled at the comment. He managed to hide his own amused smile. How ironic that statement was, considering he was reformed.

While Sam went on with story-telling, Suzie suddenly went as straight as a rail. She moved to look out the bus windows on Sam and Rex's side.

 _Should I be worried?_ Randall thought as the bus skidded ever so slightly on a patch of ice. It recovered fast, though. Since they were travelling through the downtown area, there were a lot of cars facing the same problem. He kept trying to make eye contact with Suzie, but she was too focused on staring outside as they went through an intersection. She was being unnervingly quiet…like she knew it was coming all along.

It happened fast; another skid on black ice big enough to throw the bus off-course entirely. A huge semi-truck in the next street slid, too, and made a beeline for them. Randall was in the prime spot to witness it coming. The front cabin of the semi got bigger and bigger through the window on Sam's side…

There was a loud screech of tires trying to break. A few screams from other passengers, and a horrendous shriek from Suzie yelling, "LOOK OUT!" Everyone lost their balance as the bus swerved to try and avoid the truck. Randall felt a small something being thrown into his arms—Rex—as Sam tossed the boy across the aisle towards him. The skidding almost made Becca fall out of her seat. Randall had never heard her scream before. He reached over to grab her with his left arms and pulled her head down to shield it.

Everything seemed to go quiet and move in slow motion…there was a jolt and the silent shattering of glass. The ringing in his ears was deafening as he tried to comprehend all that was happening within the space of five seconds. Sam was still sitting across the aisle. The look of terror on his brother's face was the last thing Randall remembered before everything went black.

 **CLIFFHANGER! You probably know what's going to happen...or DO YOU?**

 **Oh yeah, I feel great. Lots of drama all around, and we ended this part on a tragic cliffhanger. Hope you liked it! Also, today is my birthday am I'm eating cake right now. (French Vanilla with sprinkles.) I'm super-pumped to start the next chapter, so I'll catch you later! :)**


	24. Loss

**I'm back again! :) All these long wait times sure are annoying, aren't they? (Even for me!) I'm doing my best to squeeze in writing time, but it's tough with a busy life. LOL. Anyway, here is the next part, picking up right where we left off. Following a serious accident, Randall and his family are in dire trouble, with the rest of the gang unsure if they'll make it. Plenty of sadness and drama, here.**

Chapter Twenty-Three: Loss

As evening approached, Naomi's mood only got better and better. Everything was really going her way today, despite her uniform being covered in flour, sauce stains, and purplish-blue berry juice. She really was quite elated. A lot of the other culinary students hadn't made it this far into the course. And since the chef had liked the pancake recipe she'd invented only that morning, Naomi was positive she'd pass the exam.

"So this is what it feels like to accomplish something. And they all told me I wouldn't amount to much. Ha!" Needless to say, she was proud of herself to have proven her ex-sorority sisters wrong.

Once the kitchens were cleaned up, she changed into regular clothes—a warm fuzzy pink and purple sweater with a matching skirt. She even dawned some old legwarmers from long-gong college days; besides being practical, they held a lot of sentimental meaning. She practically skipped out the doors of the building. Time to go off to Bernard's for dinner…

The chilly air was pretty bad today; definitely too cold and icy to walk through. "Hmm…Becca said she might be busy with Randall this afternoon. And Bernard can't drive with that prosthetic, yet." Naomi pondered on what to do, since the next bus wouldn't be around for a while. "Well, I'm not about to stand out here in the cold!"

Cars zoomed by a little too fast on this downtown street; some of them were bright yellow taxis…Of course! She stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and waved a well-manicured clawed hand. A cab pulled over in less than thirty seconds. The outside of the cab had rows of spikes decorating the edges and the engine made incredibly realistic roaring sounds; a completely normal taxi for this part of the city.

The fare for a ride to Bernard's place was a bit much, but Naomi didn't care. A nice, warm taxi and the anticipation of dinner with her friends were well worth it. She couldn't wait to tell them all about the exam. Nothing would spoil this perfect day…

She chatted with the driver. He was an elderly fellow: a skinny, wrinkled crab-clawed monster with a head that was much too large for the tiny uniform hat. Quite a comical sight and just as much of a chatterbox as Naomi. The drive was normal for a while, just rolling by the everyday hustle and bustle of Monstropolis. Until there came a bit of a traffic jam.

The taxi quickly slowed to a crawl and became one of many cars stuck in the lineup. Naomi was quite annoyed at first…now she may end up being late! The sound of sirens wailed in the distance…she craned her neck to try and peer through the windshield. "Ugh. What is going on? And _why_ on my picture-perfect day when everything is going along so _perfectly_?"

"Don't know, miss; I can't quite see…" the elderly driver replied to her complaints.

As the taxi followed the traffic jam and turned a corner, the massive looming towers of Monsters, Inc. could be seen in the distance. Whatever was going on wasn't too far from the factory, it seemed. After turning another corner, Naomi finally spied the flashing red and blue lights of ambulances, way down at the far end of the street. There were also some massive rectangular objects in the middle of the road; one of them looked like a huge truck. Like a big, massive semi-trailer or something…it was kind of hard to tell what was happening from this distance. The truck was on its side and blocked a lot of the view.

The driver whistled. "Looks like an accident, miss. Big one, too."

"Oh, dear," Naomi stared as the taxi slowly inched by. All the ambulances were in the way, now. She still couldn't get a good view, but there were sure a lot of monsters running around with what looked like medical supplies and stretchers. The earlier complaints she'd made sounded very selfish now. "Wow, this looks bad…Hope everyone made it. My friends work not too far from here." And she casually resumed chatting with the old taxi driver.

Wait…Hadn't Randall said he and the others were taking the bus today?...Naomi could've cursed herself for not paying attention. Remembering little details like that wasn't her strong suit. But that one little uncertainty plagued her. All through the ride to Bernard's, a hollow feeling slowly began to grow in the pit of her stomach.

…

A ringing in his ears. Muffled sounds all around. All of it so jumbled together that it was hard to tell what they were. Sirens? Screams? It all sounded so far away. _Ugh…What's happening?_

Whatever surface he was lying on was cold, hard, and painful. Sharp, even…Something was cutting into his scales; one brush of a hand told him it was glass shards, shattered all around and under him.

Since he couldn't really remember what happened, Randall gasped involuntarily with surprise, but it was painful to do so and the inhale sounded more like a wheeze.

His head ached. He could barely lift it and when he tried, instinct told him to lie down again. When both eyes opened, everything began spinning wildly without stop. There were moans of pain all around…Randall became vaguely aware of a pewter grey shape on the shattered glass nearby—Sam? The shape was just lying there, not moving at all. But Randall was too disoriented to be sure. There were too many voices, too many sirens, too much shouting and cries of anguish. The muffled sound of small monster crying was the last thing Randall heard before drifting off again.

…

Naomi paid the taxi driver and ran at top speed around the back of Bernard's huge house. The frosty air was really biting in this part of town. But she was far too worried notice.

The side gate was thrown open with a thud as she hurried around back to the sliding patio door. She slowed down to a screeching halt and breathed three very long and deep breaths…There wasn't really a need to worry, right? Maybe the gut feeling about the road accident was just her being overly dramatic, as usual. "I do over-react…maybe it's nothing and only me being paranoid." she stepped into the kitchen, sliding the door shut behind her. "You here, Bernard?"

The twisting gut feeling relaxed a little, now that there were comforting surroundings. It was very quiet in the house; Nick and Lucy must still be out at the docks with the fishing crew. She guessed Penny was still at daycare, giving Bernard time to rest quietly.

There was no reply. But the big red monster was at the kitchen table—the prosthetic leg propped up on a cushiony stool—and he barely looked up with she came in. There was a phone in his hand and a subtle frown forming on his forehead. "Hi, Naomi. You haven't seen Becca anywhere this afternoon, have you? I can't get through to her." Bernard's colorful feather crest was lying flat against his head and back, a sign something was troubling him. Understandable. It wasn't like Becca to just disappear. "She called and said she'd cancelled the plans to go to the new shooting range; Randall wasn't up for it. But that was ages ago. They both should be here by now."

"Oh…Maybe they went out someplace else?" Naomi began stalking the kitchen, looking for a kettle to make some hot tea. "You know, a spur of the moment kind of thing?"

Bernard chuckled a bit at her mischievousness. "We really must stop teasing them like this. Are you making tea? Good, I could use something soothing."

Naomi was glad to keep walking around. That bad feeling wouldn't go away, so having something to do was a distraction. The traffic accident kept playing fresh in her mind…No. Best not to mention it until all other options were exhausted. "Maybe Becca just turned off her phone, or it ran out of juice."

"True…but being late?" Bernard counteracted. Another try later, he hung up again. "Nope. Still can't get through…"

"Maybe she's with Randall; try him."

"Already did. No luck; He doesn't carry one around that often."

Naomi switched on the kettle. "Oh, right. Strange that the guy redesigns an entire factory system, yet fails to have a phone. Kind of funny and ironic, isn't it?"

Bernard's forehead frown deepened as he kept trying. Perhaps the Boggs' house…if Samuel was there, maybe he'd know where the others were. But that idea proved fruitless, too. "No answer there, either. It's much too late for them to still be at the factory. Where in the world is everyone? It's like they've all vanished…"

"Um—" There was intense hesitation…should she mention what she'd seen on the taxi ride over here? No, not yet. There was still a chance she was being silly and all the fears were false. "Try calling the factory, anyway. Randall's in charge of the renovations. Maybe he got held up or something."

So Bernard went about giving that a try. At precisely the same moment, Naomi's own phone rang its cheery, jingling tone. The number on display was familiar: her mother, Miranda Jackson. It was a bit odd to be getting calls now of all times; Naomi's mother was a nurse at the hospital and still on duty right now…Wait. The hospital!

The fears grew a thousand times more intense. Naomi frantically answered. "Mother? What's happened?! Are they OK?"

There was a moment's surprise on the other end. "Sweetie, how do you know about—"

" _Are they OK_?!" Naomi demanded. "I saw the accident on the way over here! Didn't get a good look, though. What's happened? Please say everyone's OK!"

"You saw the accident? Oh dear…" her mother's soft, feminine voice stayed calm, but also stern and to-the-point. "Where are you, sweetie?"

"At Bernard's."

"Both of you come to the hospital immediately. There were a lot injured in the crash—Your friends were involved, too. Something about black ice and a semi T-boning a bus—so don't be alarmed by what you see. There were a lot injured. How soon can you get here?"

Naomi's heart started pounding hard. All hope of this not happening had fizzled out by now. She didn't even take the moment to answer. Hanging up so suddenly on her own mom was kind of rude, but the nurse would understand given the circumstances.

From the kitchen table, Bernard had been listening and sort of pieced together what was going on. Much of the red drained from his face. He lifted his prosthetic off the stool and grabbed a single crutch. Naomi unplugged the kettle before running after him as he half-walked, half-hobbled away. "I'll drive. That leg is still new, remember?" She snatched the keys from him. "I saw some of the accident on the road. C'mon! I'll explain on the way."

Such a spell of disarray came over them that it was hard to even focus on opening doors. At least now they understand why no one seemed to be around.

…

For the next few minutes, Randall drifted in and out of consciousness. The state he was in was so dreamlike…not being fully aware of the surroundings, he felt strangely composed. All sounds still sounded muffled and far away. He distinctly remembered Rex's voice, crying—but that was it. His entire being, despite being in physical pain and having trouble breathing, was relieved. At least his nephew was alright…but what was going on?

The bus…did it flip over? Why? The front cab of a semi had filled the view of Sam's window…

Where was Sam, anyway? And Becca?

Randall forced his eyes open. Extra-blurry images of strangers hovered over him and walked around to tend to more injured. He wanted to speak, but was too dazed and only partially conscious. The pewter grey shape that had been lying nearby was gone now. He tried to get up, but was forced back down by a pair of gentle hands. An extremely painful sensation arose in his chest; all of a sudden it was getting even harder to breathe…

The pain grew. Randall was too out-of-it to stay awake any longer and drifted off again.

…

Many nurses and doctors were running around the entrance to the emergency ward, guiding the medical responders who took dozens of injured monsters inside. Some were conscious, but most were not; and all of them lay on wheeled gurnies; bruised, bloody, and broken…

Naomi and Bernard stood for a moment in horror upon witnessing the scene. There were about to go into the emergency's side entrance, so as to be out of the way. Whatever happened must've been big. The sound of ambulance sirens still echoed in the distance. Maybe even more victims were destined to come in.

Naomi hadn't been to the hospital since Bernard's amputation. The memory of the boating accident was still fresh in her mind, and she was handling this new venture with even less dignity. She was shaking like a leaf, staring at the victims as they were unloaded to see if any of them were monsters she knew. So far, so good…but it was just as awful seeing all of these poor, injured victims.

Bernard sensed how she was feeling and put a hand on her shoulder, keeping balance on his crutch. "It'll be OK."

"How can you say that?!" she burst out, fighting the tears. "Why, oh _why_ , does everything bad happen to us? Haven't we all earned a break from stuff like this? I don't think I can take much more…It's like we're all characters in some kind of prolonged drama story!"

Bernard nodded in agreement. He was scared for their friends, too, but stayed calm and cool for her sake. They averted their eyes from the first responders and went inside. Their plan was to ask someone about the condition of Becca and the Boggs clan, before tracking down Naomi's mother. Then there wouldn't be much else to do except wait…but before stepping three feet into the waiting room, a nurse came running up to them. She had the most pained look on her face, but wore it with much professionalism. Kind of a required skill if one was a nurse helping with such a big accident.

"Mother! You're here!" Naomi ran into her arms.

"Shh, shh, it's alright," Miranda Jackson stroked her grown-up daughter's hair with comfort. She quickly greeted Bernard before getting right down to business. "Hello, Bernard; I've been waiting for you two to show up. Follow me; Rebecca's waiting for you one floor up."

"You mean—she's alright?" The older monster followed as fast as possible on one crutch. They hadn't expected to hear good news right away.

"Still a bit shaken up, but yes. A few broken ribs, and a lot of cuts from the glass, but otherwise she's fine."

"Thank goodness…" Naomi sighed in relief. Bernard visibly let out a breath, too. There couldn't be better news. Becca did not deserve anything else traumatic in her life, not after all she had endured these past many months. Hearing that she was OK couldn't be more welcome.

Miranda walked briskly through the corridors to take the shortest route upstairs. There was an uncanny resemblance between her and Naomi; Bernard had only met the woman once, and was still amazed by how alike they were. Miranda had the same lavender skin and three blue eyes, with her hair only being a slightly darker purple shade and pinned up in an elegant bun. She looked very young for her age; Bernard wouldn't have been surprised if she and Naomi got mistaken for sisters. He tried to keep up as best he could, so as to ask questions about the accident.

Miranda described what she had learned thus far: The bus had skidded on black ice, as well as an over-sized semi-truck, and the truck had ended up T-boning the crowded bus. She also gave a brief summary of Becca's condition while guiding them to the end of the hallway. "Since she isn't in a life-threatening state, we decided to move her upstairs to a quieter ward. She's mighty riled up, though…" There was a 'ding' as the elevator was called. "Seeing you two will help her considerably."

"And Randall and Samuel?" Bernard prompted.

"Sam's little boy was in the crash, too. A five-year old?" Naomi chimed in.

Miranda adjusted the name tag on her nurse's uniform and didn't answer right away. The hesitation and silence spoke volumes. "Erm…How about we go to Becca's room and I explain to all of you at once?"

The rest of the walk was all-too-quiet…

…

Becca's recovery room was nice and peaceful, far away from the chaos of the emergency wing. There was even a window overlooking the hospital's garden and walking paths. But she hardly focused on the sunshine. She was still trying to piece together what the hell was going on! The multi-eyed, flame-haired nurse currently checking her stitches had explained the accident, but Becca wanted to hear from her friends. She trusted them more than a total stranger…What she _did_ remember was the truck coming closer and closer…a screech of tires and shattering glass…Sam had sure looked terrified. That was a first, seeing the composed factory counsellor in a panic…and Randall—wait, what happened to him? And Rex? Becca stopped ignoring the nurse and made conversation about the crash. Perhaps talking about it would jog a memory.

The door of the pristine white room opened and in walked what looked like an older Naomi—Miranda! That was her name; along with Naomi herself and Bernard. Becca immediately sat up from the pillows. "Finally, you guys are here! What the hell is going on down there?"

"Good to hear you're doing OK." said Bernard. He and Naomi stared at Becca's injuries. There were so many cuts on her…either from glass or metal, it was hard to tell. The biggest ones had stitches to hold them closed, with the worst ones on her arms bandaged up. Although her forest-green scales made the bruises difficult to see, there were many signs of Becca being banged up pretty good. The entire right side of her torso was covered in scrapes. But at least she was conscious. None of the injuries seemed to be swollen and her face didn't look that bad. Even if some ribs were broken, she seemed to be handling it well.

Miranda dismissed the flame-haired nurse, who left the room, and took over. "How's the pain, Becca? Bearable?"

"This part really hurts," Becca lay back on the pillows tentatively while placing a hand on her ribs. "It's really not that bad, considering a freaking _truck_ plowed into us! It was on Sam and Rex's side; I must've blacked out for a minute, but I remember—" she paused, unable to be sure of what had happened during those last few seconds. "Where are they, anyway?"

"Please say it isn't too bad, Mother…" Naomi clasped her claws together.

"Calm down; just take it easy, everyone. "Miranda guided the others into some cushy armchairs by the window. "Especially you, Becca. You've been in a terrible accident and there are a lot of monsters not as lucky. Rex is in pediatrics, still unconscious. But no broken bones, at least. They think he may have a slight head injury, so he's getting a CAT scan and the doctors are waiting for him to wake up. As for the Boggs brothers, both are in surgery."

"Surgery?" Naomi and Becca sat up straighter. Bernard went stiff at the word.

"Yes. Internal injuries." Miranda went on gently. "All three were among the first to arrive. We don't know the extent of Rex's injuries yet; head trauma can be serious for children. One of the responders thinks the boy was shielded by another monster. That likely helped protect him. As for Randall, I don't know how he's doing, but Samuel was hit very hard. Got rushed into surgery immediately, and his brother soon after."

Becca, Bernard, and Naomi were all speechless. What in the world was going on? Today went from being a normal afternoon of work, cooking, doing chores, and just living. And now _this_? Becca crossed her arms in apprehension, being careful to avoid the stitches in them. Her memory had been jogged all of a sudden when Miranda explained about the crash. She listened as the nurse went on.

"I didn't want to sugar-coat anything, sweetie," Miranda said to her daughter in particular. "But you all deserve to know what's going on. Now, I have to see to more victims, but I'll come back to let you know how they're doing."

"Promise?" Naomi whimpered.

"I promise. The moment I hear anything." The nurse reassured. She gave Naomi a hug and a kiss on the forehead before checking Becca's stitched-up cuts and gashes. She began to leave the room in the same brisk and urgent pace. There was an emergency in progress, after all. "Take care of her, Bernard?"

Instead of answering, the older monster asked with much seriousness, "How bad was the crash?"

Miranda picked up the underlying question. She hesitated for a second. "Well…Four died at the scene. One on arrival."

The news wasn't what they were expecting. Everyone just nodded solemnly; OK, so it was much worse than they realized. But the Boggs were in good hands, right? Miranda left the room, sensing the friends all wanted to be left alone. There was terrible silence…unspeakable fears coursed through the air as each monster tried to process it all. Becca remained sitting upright in mild shock. If the crash had killed some monsters, what if…? No. She couldn't think about losing anyone else in her life. But it was hard to accept the possibility that the others were in serious trouble.

Naomi collapsed in an armchair, tired of all this emotional stress, and just stared at the ceiling. Bernard finally broke the quiet. "I'm grateful you aren't in worse shape, Becca. You and Rex are the lucky ones, it sounds like."

"Ow! Broken ribs, remember?" Becca cried out when he went to give her a comforting hug. He backed off apologetically. "Yeah…seems like it. Thanks to Randall."

"Huh?" the others prompted.

Full memory of the crash returned, and Becca explained what had happened in the moments before she blacked out. It was all clear as day, now. "Right before the truck hit, Sam tossed Rex over to our side of the bus. Randall shielded him with every arm; that's probably what saved the kid's life. He pulled my head down to try and help me, too, but it all happened so fast…We were in the direct path of that monstrosity of a truck…I woke up on the pavement for a few minutes, but passed out again." She sighed and leaned back onto the hospital pillows. After Miranda Jackson's statement about the deadly crash, she prayed nothing else bad would happen. Those last-minute actions from Randall may very well be the reason she was still alive.

Naomi moved to the other side of the bed and put a sisterly hand on Becca's shoulder. "I hope this surgery ends soon…Bernard, what do we do?"

"All we can do is wait." He said grimly.

…

So they waited. For ages, it felt like. Time seemed to pass ever so slowly with the sense of impending doom. It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Naomi began pacing restlessly. She checked the hall every five minutes for any sign of her mother. Many anxious questions needing answering—how were the other victims doing? How was the surgery going? How serious were Sam's injuries? Was Rex awake, yet? What about Randall? They still hadn't heard anything about him. Naomi couldn't stay still for a second with all these worries.

Bernard moved a chair closer to Becca's bedside to offer reassurance. Now that her initial shock was wearing off, the pain of her broken ribs and stitched-up cuts was setting in.

"Ow. It's not too bad," she insisted. Remembering Miranda's statement from earlier about the deceased victims, she lamented, "I'm not really a high priority, here. Things are already bad enough. Some monsters even died…"

Bernard nodded sadly. He had been very quiet throughout this waiting time. Thoughtfully taking it all in…But Naomi had yet to sit down. "What is taking so _long_?" she muttered, glancing out the door again. She was now keeping it propped open so as to better hear any footsteps. "I know surgeries can take a while, but why hasn't Mother come to tell us about Rex and Randall? Maybe they're more hurt then we think and nobody wants us to know!"

"Princess, all this panicking won't help." Becca said sternly. She pulled her knees up to her chest to hug them anxiously. "I'm already scared enough as it is. So chill out."

Naomi nodded and tried to relax. She eventually sat down in an armchair and stayed motionless. Bernard, still quiet, fidgeted at Becca's bedside. This waiting game was terrible, but they would get through it together somehow, just as they always did. Becca didn't elaborate on her emotions, but inside, she was terrified. Terrified of what shape Rex, Sam and Randall were in…not knowing was unbearable. A twinge of survivor's guilt washed over her…how could the brothers be in surgery while she was sitting here with only a few cuts and bruises? It didn't seem fair…

There was much to contemplate. Randall…if anything happened to him, Becca didn't know what she would do. He had ducked her head and shielded her from further harm in that crash. Just like her previous suicide attempts, he was looking out for her. Until now, she hadn't realized just how _many_ life-saving encounters there had been.

The emotional silence ended when Miranda Jackson returned. "Good news! Rex is awake."

The gang let out a collective exhale. "Thank heavens…" Bernard buried his head in a giant hand. His feather crest no longer lay flat with tension against his skull. "How is he?"

"A mild concussion, which is good considering what else may have happened. The glass left a few cuts, but nothing major; won't even need stitches. He's still a bit confused, but alert and talking coherently. We'd like to keep him in the hospital for observation, though, given his age and the seriousness of the accident."

The gang nodded. No surprises there.

"As for his family," Miranda's expression turned a bit grim at this point. "They're still in surgery. Randall's left side got particularly hit—nearly every rib broken and an arm, as well—so the doctors are patching all that up. Two of his lungs were punctured—oh, don't worry, he's got a total of four—and there're the usual scrapes and bruises. It may sound bad, but he's extremely fortunate. The force of the crash could have done so much worse. It's lucky that his spine and neck are still in one piece. Now as for Sam," Miranda faltered again. The others could tell she had been trying to simplify the worst of it all. "Since he was in direct harm's way, he's in worse shape."

While Becca was glad of Randall's survival, the lack of info worried her. "How many bones?"

"Erm…Most of the ones in his body." Miranda said honestly. The short sentence spoke volumes. It wasn't good…Naomi actually started crying. The nurse went to sit on the edge of the big armchair to try and comfort her daughter. "Shh, shh…he's alive. There's a whole team working to save him. But be aware that it's very bad."

For several minutes, the group was quiet. Miranda went on giving a few more carefully-worded details so as not to upset them further. The way she hinted about Sam's injuries made it sound like he'd been practically crushed.

"We should go to Rex." Bernard announced as he struggled to his real foot, balancing on the artificial one. He grabbed his crutch with new determination. "If the boy is awake and talking, he deserves to know."

"Are you sure?" Naomi disagreed with a sniffle. "He's only five."

"Exactly. Five and all alone right now. Wouldn't you want to know if it was you?" But even Bernard wasn't so sure if it was the right thing to do.

…

Suzie stayed with them the entire time when the others went to see Becca. Standing in the doorway to watch, listen and wait…A part of her was exuberantly happy. Becca was OK! Her big sister may be hurt, but she was alive and breathing. That was all that mattered.

More than anything, Suzie wanted to check on Randall, Sam and Rex…but was too scared. After seeing all the other patients down in the emergency ward in such terrible shape…she was too afraid of what she would find upon seeking out her other friends. That nawing feeling about Sam was still there. She alone sensed what was going to happen…But her ability to sense disaster wasn't the most reliable skill. Hopefully the feeling was wrong in this case.

…

"Rex is a clever one. He's going to figure it out, anyway." Bernard predicted as Miranda led them down another hallway. They were in a completely different wing of the hospital, in the pediatrics area where lots of sick or injured children were staying, with their families close by. But Rex was all by himself, with no idea what was happening to his father and uncle. He was bound to ask questions.

The paint in these halls was more colorful and happier-looking, decorated with crayon artwork from the young patients. It certainly did the trick of lifting spirits. Smiles from passersby was a good change from all the chaos and fear back in the emergency ward. Becca wasn't really up to walking. Her freshly broken ribs made the task a bit too uncomfortable, so she borrowed a wheelchair and used that instead. Naomi offered to push her around, which Becca accepted. She was trying to keep her torso as still as possible right now and the assistance was a big help.

Upon reaching the door to Rex's room, Miranda said to all of them, "Take all the time you need. There are other staff on the floor if you need anyone. I'll come and check on you later with more news."

"Thanks. But don't take too long, please." Bernard begged.

Inside the boy's room, the décor was more kid-friendly. It made all the hospital equipment less menacing. Rex himself was sitting upright in the bed with several small wounds on his arms, torso, and legs. But it was hardly noticable. There must have been a larger bruise or something on his head, for it was wrapped up in bandages and his eyes couldn't seem to focus properly. That much was obvious.

There was another nurse trying to keep him occupied with a game of charades, but Rex wasn't having it. Many questions were on his mind and he kept on pestering and pressuring the nurse to tell him. When he saw Uncle Randy's friends come in, he immediately perked up. "There you are! Won't you guys tell me what's going on?" It was here when Miranda Jackson pulled the other nurse aside to whisper in her ear. Rex stared at Becca in the wheelchair and all of her injuries. "Whoa. You got hurt, too, Miss Becca! Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just don't try to hug me." She pointed to her bandaged ribs.

"'Kay. Where's Dad? He was sitting right beside me but now he's missing and we're all here in the hospital! What happened? The nurse said there was a big car crash, but she won't tell me anything else."

Naomi sat on the edge of his bed. "Easy, Rex. Don't get too excited."

"Your dad and uncle are both having operations done." Bernard explained as kindly as he could. "They were both very badly hurt."

"You mean surgery? Whew…that's good." Rex's unfocused eyes went cross for a moment and he leaned back onto the pillows to close and rest them. "That means doctors are helping them. Is it very bad? Wait, no—don't tell me. I couldn't handle the fretfulness."

The gang was amazed by just how large the kid's vocabulary was. Sam sure taught him well.

"So I guess we wait, then?" Rex asked.

"Uh—yes." Bernard just couldn't elaborate on the facts. Not when the boy was so hopeful and optimistic.

Naomi saw a pack of cards lying on the bedside table. "Wanna play 'Go Fish,' Rex? To take your mind off things?"

"Alright. Now that I know everything's gonna be OK…Dad and Uncle Randy _will_ be OK, won't they?" But instead of getting answers, the others all changed the subject to the card game.

Now the gang had a problem. How were they going to explain to a little boy about a deadly bus crash? About how serious his father's condition was? Or maybe they were worrying for nothing. Sam would pull through in the end; his young son needed him more than ever. In the meantime, though, Rex needed someone to be here so he wouldn't feel so alone and scared. He was happy enough to play games while waiting for more news.

Naomi, even while sitting here playing cards, kept a sharp vigil for her mother's footsteps. Rex may be blissfully unaware of the true danger, but the gang sure wasn't.

…

Floating. That was the only word to describe it. A calm, painless state of between asleep and awake. There were sounds all around—strangers' voices, the beeping of machines—but all seemed very far away. He gained more consciousness as the minutes passed. His eyes remained too heavy to open, though. So he simply remained still and tried to process it all in darkness.

Was this a recovery room? No. Too crowded. Unless he was still in the emergency wing with other victims.

Randall couldn't describe what happened next. One moment he was lying with only partial awareness of the surroundings…Next, he was standing in a hallway of monsters! Doctors and nurses rushed around to tend to injured crash victims. Startled, he examined himself only to find all of his own cuts and bruises were healed. Even the massive patch of scar tissue from that old gunshot wound…Huh? What was going on?

Lining the hallway and waiting area were monsters groaning in pain, all bruised and broken—some more than others—and Randall stood in the thick of it all. A particularly large nurse that resembled a big sasquatch was running around so fast that the floor vibrated. Randall saw victims clutching their arms, claws, shoulders, or torsos in pain. The worst ones lay unconscious on wheeled gurnies. These victims were carefully whisked away by order of severity.

Still confused, Randall now grew quite disturbed by all of this. What was happening? Did he already go through some magical scar-removing treatment and just couldn't remember? _Nah. Too ridiculous_ …He wandered the ward for a glimpse of Becca, Rex or Sam. He called out to a monster passing by, but the nurse kept going like she hadn't heard. _Guess she didn't hear me._ _Understandable, given all this chaos._ So Randall asked someone else, this time at a desk where several workers were directing family members to their loved ones. But they made no response, either.

"Hey, quit ignoring me! I'm looking for my—" but Randall stopped himself in realization. No one was even acknowledging him…They didn't even turn to look at him! One nurse did look up, only to speak to the family of slimey slug monsters next in line behind Randall.

Suddenly, panic rose in every fiber of his being. His pulled at his fronds in fear. He stumbled backwards in shock. He was all but soundless and invisible…for real, this time…

Was this a dream? Was he having an out-of-body experience? Or was he dead, just like Suzie? "No, no, no, this isn't happening…!"

"Hi," Suzie said softly from nearby. He turned to see her serenely standing by a water cooler with the staff rushing all around without even noticing. "Don't worry, Randy. You're going to be fine. I worked up the courage to check in on you," she pointed a scaly thumb down another hall. "They're fixing you up, no problem. Won't be a pleasant recovery, but you'll make it."

"Uh—" Randall pulled at his fronds even harder to try and wake himself up. So he wasn't…? He wanted to say something, but this was far too surreal to take in.

Another sight caught his attention: Over in the waiting area was a very familiar sight. A single monster was walking around, almost stumbling, and seemingly very lost. The injuries on him were supreme—his long, lizard-like pewter-grey body was visibly bent out of shape, as if many bones had been crushed or something. Even part of his back was visibly broken. There were so many bruises on him…how was the guy still walking around, anyway? An abstract sleeve tattoo was on his left arm…

Randall blinked in horror to see Sam turn around. Even part of his brother's face was broken; nearly caved in.

The brothers made eye contact for a moment…Sam didn't appear to be in physical pain. He didn't even seem sad or scared. The only expression to be read was pure, utter confusion.

Suzie saw him, too, and made a tiny gasp of surprise. "Oh no…I was hoping I'd be wrong."

Randall was about to call out to Sam. When all of a sudden the room began spinning wildly. He tried to keep from falling over, but his entire world went spiraling into darkness once again.

…

This was the worst waiting game the friends had ever played. They passed the time as best they could. Card games, charades, and other guessing games weren't much of a distraction though, and eventually everyone just settled into their own silent thoughts. Rex kept on playing with the kids' toys while asking questions now and then. He'd been trying to trick them into giving out more information on his family ever since they'd entered the room. But they all remained adamant not to tell the boy anything until something positive was heard.

Miranda didn't return for several hours. When she did, they learned that Randall was out of surgery. "…but he's a fighter, that's for sure. Still unconscious, but stable and doing well for the most part."

No one was more relieved than Becca. "Can we go see him?"

"Well, he's on a ventilator. It may be a bit of a shock, but yes. Only if you're sure you can handle it."

Both Naomi and Becca decided to go, while Bernard stayed with Rex so as not to leave him all alone. The boy protested, though. "Aw, why can't I come?"

"Sorry, Rex," Miranda interjected before anyone else could. "But it's still too soon for you. You'll have to wait a bit longer, OK?"

Waves of suspicion were obvious in Rex's unfocused eyes. But he understood the seriousness of it all and didn't complain further.

Naomi also sensed her mother was only making up an excuse. As they left the room, she looked over her shoulder at Bernard. The older monster appeared to sense something terrible as well. Of course no one dared say anything with Rex here. Bernard nodded as Miranda led the others away; a silent way of saying: 'Stay strong and tell me later.'

"Mother?" Naomi walked beside her while pushing Becca's wheelchair along. "Kids are allowed in the ER if it's to visit family in recovery. What's going on?"

"Let's go to your friend first. I shouldn't tell you here in the hallway. It's not exactly a private place."

Neither of the girls said a word for fear of whatever it was the nurse was hiding.

They took the elevator down to the ER's level. All of the chaos had died down. The critically injured crash victims had been treated and moved into their own recovery rooms. Many less serious ones were still hanging around; some were annoyed that they had been kept waiting so long, but the hospital staff was doing their best to attend to everyone.

Miranda led Naomi and Becca down several more corridors. All the way to where the critical patients were staying. She remained quiet…The white-washed walls had never seemed more uninviting.

The girls weren't prepared for what they saw. Randall's room was full of high-tech equipment; it almost suited him, giving his interest in machinery. But he lay utterly motionless on the hospital bed; his left arm in a cast, thick bandages around his middle, and more scars and bruises added to the ones already there. There was a mask over his face and tubes down his throat; the soft sound of a ventilator could be heard, breathing for him. Of course; two of his four lungs had been punctured.

It was upsetting, seeing him like this…Naomi gasped dramatically and even recoiled in shock.

Becca, however, wheeled herself right in. Sure this was hard, but she wanted to see him. A visit—even if Randall was unconscious—was the least they could do. She and Rex were lucky to be in the good shape they were because of his actions. She noted how dull of a purple his scales were. That happened whenever he felt ill, worried, or stressed. Well, being injured in a hospital sure counted as stress…

Miranda reassured Naomi, "It looks bad, yes, but he's going to make it. With plenty of rest, he'll make a fine recovery."

Naomi nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes I forget that monsters are built a lot sturdier then humans. We learned that from experience." She watched as Becca went right up to the bedside and did something unexpected; she held one of his hands. The bandaged-up woman was rarely the sentimental type. She looked so sad, and yet so grateful at the same time, just looking at his still form…the unspoken appreciation those two had towards one another was all too apparent in this moment. Naomi finally asked Miranda, "Mother, how's Sam doing? Still in surgery?"

Becca, still gently holding Randall's hand, looked up expectantly.

The nurse sighed. "…He didn't make it."

There was silence.

"Died on the operating table…I'm very sorry."

The world moved in slow-motion. Miranda was going on about how the force of the truck basically crushed Sam hard enough to make his injuries too severe…doctors had tried to repair the internal damage…a few victims suffered similar fates…her words all sounded slow and far-away to Naomi and Becca. They couldn't fully comprehend it.

Samuel Boggs? Dead?

Naomi staggered to a nearby chair, her eyes brimmed with tears that wouldn't come out. What a nightmare this was turning out to be…she made eye contact with Becca. Both thought the exact same thing: what about Rex? The boy was upstairs, only a few wards away, patiently waiting for news of his father…What were they going to say to him?

…

Suzie settled in a corner of the room to watch and listen once again. So it really did happen. If only she'd been able to sense the crash, this wouldn't have happened! Hearing the official news that Randall's brother was gone made it all the more real.

Watching her friend and sister hear the news was already too much to handle. She didn't want to stick around for more. The ghost blinked out of sight, with no one even knowing she had been there.

 **As always, hope you enjoyed and stayed tuned for the next part. Feel free to review, but be polite, please. I'm working really hard on this thing! :) Up next: Somehow, Becca and Naomi have to break the tragic news to Rex, who has no idea what's happened.**


	25. In Limbo

**Hello, readers! We're picking immediately after the last part: here's the direct aftermath with Rex finally learning of Sam's death, and Randall enduring an out-of-body experience once again. This is quite a sad chapter, and I'm very pleased with how it turned out. Had to make it as sad as possible. Please read and enjoy!**

Chapter Twenty-Four: In Limbo

An entire night had gone by since the accident. The victims had all been treated; the survivors, at least…with Sam not being one of them. Becca's stitches and bruises still looked awful, and her broken ribs meant she had to stay here in the hospital for a short while. But she was in well-enough condition to leave her room at times.

It was early morning. But she, Bernard and Naomi hadn't had appetites for breakfast. With Rex currently in his own room chowing down on a delicious plate of neon-colored fruit and blue-spotted yogurt, the others left him in the care of a nurse as they sneaked away down to the emergency ward. There was a friend they desperately needed to visit.

Randall still lay in a light coma. Tubes and machines were hooked up to monitor his condition and keep breathing for him. Some tubes even protruded from between his smashed ribs; a treatment to help heal two of his four lungs. All these injuries were nothing to mess around with. He was in a far worse state then Becca and a sight for sore eyes. Yet his friends were glad to see him all the same. At least he wasn't faring any worse. Although Randall couldn't be a part of the conversation, being in the room made the subject of his brother far less difficult to discuss.

None of them had slept last night. All were coming to grips with what was going on. The news that Samuel Boggs was dead still hadn't fully set in. It didn't seem real…As a counselor at Monsters, Inc., everybody knew and liked him. At times he was a big know-it-all, but that was nothing compared to his other traits: He was a kind advice-giver, who listened to whatever anyone had to say, a good teacher who was very responsible, and to top it all off, a single father who had done an excellent job raising Rex. To leave all of that behind…Sam truly didn't deserve a fate like this.

Rex still hadn't been told. Under the orders of Miranda Jackson, several doctors, and a social worker who had arrived at the hospital late last night, the gang was forbidden to tell Rex of Sam's fate themselves. Telling the boy that he no longer had a father was destined to fall to someone else.

They sat in chairs—in Becca's case, a wheelchair—around Randall's bed to argue about it. "What do we do?" Naomi wanted to defy the orders. "Just tell me _how_ one breaks the news to a little kid that his father is dead? Sam raised him all alone for years and just like _that_ , in one instant, it's _over_!"

"There's nothing left for us to do." Bernard said firmly. "That social worker said not to say a word to Rex. We're not even family—"

"But we may as well be! Aren't we close enough?!"

"Naomi! It isn't our place!" Bernard fought to keep from raising his voice, lest a nurse burst in. "This is a very tragic thing to tell a child. As much as I hate to admit it, we must stay out of it."

Becca rested her elbows on the edge of the bed, trying to move as little as possible for the sake of her broken ribs. "Damn that social worker. Rex has to know! _Now_! He's been asking for Sam since yesterday! I read him a story and came up with another lame excuse. I'm sure he's getting suspicious. The kid's smart, just like the rest of his family…" She gazed at Randall's unconscious form.

"Yes. He'll figure it out on his own soon enough." Bernard agreed.

"They must be contacting Zachariah. Or maybe Rex's mom?" Naomi guessed. The others nodded. If anyone was to tell Rex about the tragedy, it should be a family member. Randall was the only other one around and was still incapacitated. Dr. Zachariah Boggs was a good choice; the man was level-headed and honest, and loved his grandson although he didn't express it outwardly very much. They wondered if Rex's mother would be contacted, but doubted that was a wise choice. All they knew about her was that Sam had divorced her years ago after she walked out on him and their son. None of the Boggs had seen her since.

Becca held one of Randall's hands, hoping he would miraculously open his eyes. "You'd better wake up soon, Genius. There's a kid here who needs you." She then turned to Bernard and Naomi. "He's the reason Rex is still breathing at all. If he hadn't shielded us at that last possible moment—ugh. I hate to imagine what could have happened…"

Of course none of them wanted to picture the inevitable storm that was soon to come.

…

There were tense and awkward times for the next few hours. Rex kept pushing for answers regarding his father. So the gang took turns staying with him in his room to keep him distracted; playing games, drawing pictures, or reading storybooks that the hospital provided for young patients. But he was far from deterred. "How long can a surgery take? It's already been almost a whole day! When are they gonna let me see him?"

Naomi, alone with him when the question came up, fought to think up an excuse on the spot. "Um…"

"And Uncle Randy's doing OK, right? Still sleeping?" Rex asked.

"Yes. He's only one floor down. But pretty badly hurt, so you can't see him until later."

"'Later.' Humph." The boy's expression became annoyed. "The doctors keep telling me that! Fine, I'll wait. I guess it's the same for Dad, then…"

A relieved Naomi changed the subject to a game of charades. It was a long time until the boy grew tired and wanted to read by himself for a while. When she finally got to leave, she planned on going to the cafeteria for some warm, comforting food like cheesy pasta or maybe ice cream…but her returned appetite was forgotten when she spied the social worker at the end of the hall. Becca and Bernard had cornered her there and desperately pressing for more information on how this situation would be handled. Naomi didn't want to be left in the dark, either, and scurried down the busy corridor to join.

The social worker was a tall bug-eyed woman, skinny enough to pass as a stick-insect, with long antennae that dangled with jewelry to compliment the dark suit she wore. A stack of papers was in her hands, and she held them up like a shield against the onslaught of insults from a very frustrated Becca. This must be a part of the job, dealing with emotional monsters like this.

"Look here, lady," said Becca in a raised voice. "Rex is gonna come bounding out of that room on his own if we don't tell him something! Have you contacted other family yet? 'Cause if not, we'll tell him ourselves, whether you like it or not!"

"Please calm down," the insect Social Worker said nervously, but held her ground. "The boy's grandfather will be here in a few hours! Dr. Boggs has a starling reputation where he lives; I finally managed to get through to him earlier. He specifically said that _no one_ is to say anything to Rex. That _he'll_ be the one who breaks the news. He sounded very distraught himself over the phone…" she explained rather sadly. "As for the boy's mother—"

There was an uncomfortable silence amongst the friends. Sam didn't like to talk about her. Even when he did, it was with much contempt, heartbrokenness, and rage all mixed together.

"—we're trying to locate her. The contact info is quite old, so it may take some time."

"Is that really true?" Bernard asked. "Trying to find her, I mean? The story is a bit sketchy, but Sam told us she'd walked out on them years ago, wanting nothing to do with them anymore."

"All the same, the boy's mother deserves to know about her son and that her ex-husband has passed away. Weather she wants to see Rex at all is difficult to say…but I'll continue working the case and do what's in the best interest of the boy. Samuel did have a will written up," Here, the gang was surprised. Sam had been in his early thirties; a bit soon to have a full will already. The Social Worker went on. "But it is not to be looked over until more family is present."

Knowing that Zachariah was on his way made the gang more reassured. There was so much mess happening right now. Becca found herself wishing more than ever that Randall was awake…He had a good ability to keep everyone thinking rationally. And he was Rex's uncle, for crying out loud! If only he was here to tell the kid about Sam…Zach lived way out in the countryside and wouldn't be here for hours. Could they all hold out that long?

…

James Sullivan sat stalk-still at his desk in a state of shock. His huge blue-furred paws were clenched together with elbows propped up on the desk. He stared straight ahead, looking at nothing. The only sound to be heard in the luxurious office was the ticking of a clock. The tragedy hadn't fully registered.

A visiting monster had just left the room; a social worker who had come from the hospital and been most insistent on seeing him to deliver alarming news. She hadn't even made an appointment beforehand. Sulley was so unaccustomed to monsters doing that, that he had been too curious to deny the request. Now that he was alone, Sulley could come to terms with the shock on his own.

The door suddenly opened again without a knock. Mike Wazowski came in as casually as a monster would stroll into a living room. Of course Mike was welcome to come up to the head office whenever he liked, but Sulley was glad he had come now of all times. This was a good time to have a friend nearby.

"Hey, pal," Mike greeted in the usual cheerful manner. "Who's the suit? I passed by her in the hall; she had to be the most serious-looking woman I've ever seen up here. Unless you count that stuck-up billionaire from that new rival factory that opened up. You know, monsters like that who are too serious can only stir up trouble…" Mike then noticed how downtrodden Sulley was. "Hey, what's eatin' you? Did she drop a bomb or somethin'?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact…" Sulley began. "You know the crash yesterday?"

"Of course! Who doesn't? The whole thing was headline news last night. Didn't you see it? I distinctly remember you being in the room when the TV was on." Mike reminded. Them being roommates meant it was hard not to hear whatever was happening on a TV. "It looked real bad; shame that some monsters died…knowing that the collision happened only a few blocks from here is kind of scary." Mike then clued in upon seeing Sulley's seriousness. All the cheerfulness he'd walked in with was replaced by shock and dread. "Was there—anyone that we know?"

"Yeah. Samuel Boggs didn't make it."

It didn't click at first. Mike blinked his one eye several times. He waited in silence, hoping that he had misheard. "What? But—I—I saw him yesterday! Leaving the building and everything!"

"He was directly in the path of the truck; it crushed him. There was…um…" Sulley didn't want to picture the disaster for it sounded like a horrible way to go. "There was too much trauma to save him…But Randall is hanging in there. In rough shape, though."

"Geez…Hold on, what about Sam's boy?"

"Rex is fine; just a few scrapes and bruises. That woman who was just here? She's the social worker assigned to the Boggs case. She came to tell me of Sam and Randall's status. I've already gotten several calls from the hospital, too. There were quite a few of our guys on that bus."

"That explains all the absences today," Mike cringed. "Was anyone else…you know?"

"No. Just Sam." Sulley reassured. "The other fatalities were no one we know; all other civilians. But that doesn't make it any less terrible."

There was a shuddering silence as the summary sank in. Mike had to take a seat on the office's comfy couch, while Sulley stayed there behind the desk, wondering what course of action to take. "Rebecca McKeen was hurt, too, but she's stable. The hospital even said she could be released in a few days. And were also some laughers and scarers on the bus, too, but the worst of them is a broken leg. They're all going to be fine."

"Good, good. That's something, at least." Mike sighed in relief. "And Rex is alright?"

"Yep. But with no father. From what the worker said, more of the Boggs family has to be contacted. It's all uncertain what's going to happen to the kid, now. And Randall is in real bad shape; if anything happens to him, too…"

"Ah! Let's not think about that!" Mike jumped to his feet. The thought of his former-friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend-again facing the same fate as Sam was unthinkable. "What happened to him? Broken legs? Arms? Maybe we should go see him."

"Mike, the guy's lost his brother and was in a serious accident only yesterday—"

"Exactly! Wouldn't you want some visitors in a situation like that? The guy doesn't deserve this; not after getting redeemed! And I'm sure McKeen is a wreck right now, just like Rex is sure to be after losing his dad." Mike quickly realized something else important. "Everyone in the factory will know about it soon."

Sulley nodded. It was hard to hide anything from the workers here. This whole factory was like a little community where everyone knew everyone. "A few scarers came up here earlier, asking where Sam is. Who knew a company counsellor would come in handy for morale?" He brooded for a few minutes and made a decision. "I should call an emergency meeting about this; they all deserve to know."

It was getting close to lunchtime. But neither of them had any appetite. There were more important things to worry about. Mike decided to forego the meeting in the factory's auditorium. Instead, he hurried back down to the main foyer, planning to tell Celia Mae and Jeffery Fungus the news as gently as possible. Ever since Randall's change in attitude, they had all come to respect and even like the lizard. This all seemed so unfair…

On the way down in the elevator, Mike considered sneaking off to the hospital himself. Since Sulley would be busy here, there was no harm in checking in on Randall and his friends.

…

Since all the initial chaos was over now, everything seemed normal at the hospital grounds: average parking lot of weirdly-sized cars, very little hustle and bustle, and no stressed-out nurses hanging around the entrances. There wasn't an entire fleet of ambulances blocking every door, either. Mike hopped out of his gold-colored, spike-rimmed, six-wheel-drive car (He had always had a liking for nice cars) and speed-walked up to the main entrance. The social worker hadn't given Sulley a full description of whatever shape Randall was in, so Mike was going in blindly, not knowing where to go.

The lobby and front desk area was quite devoid of activity; there were only a few monsters sitting around the waiting area. Mike began walking up to the desk, intending to inquire about Randall. All he wanted was information on how the guy was doing and if visitors would be allowed—when an unexpected sight was spotted on the other side of the lobby. Mike had to blink and rub his eye to be sure it was real.

A multi-limbed, lizard-like monster was sitting in a chair, looking most distressed. He clearly had purple scales and fronds sticking out of his head…A small, teddy-bear-like nurse sat beside him, talking softly and trying to offer words of comfort. Mike immediately approached them with incredulousness. So he _wasn't_ hurt, after all? The words came out before Mike could even be sure who he was talking to. "Randall! You're OK! But what about the accident? They said you were—" He paused upon getting confused looks from both of them—the lizard was revealed to actually be a dark eggplant color with grey eyes and was twice Randall's age. Mike tried to apologize. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Dr. Boggs, I thought you were—"

"Yes, that happens a lot…" Zachariah Boggs nodded numbly. "I just came from his room…"

"Oh…Doin' OK?" Mike said uneasily. The Boggs brothers' father must surely be traumatized by all of this, and Mike had never been in a situation this awkward before. It was hard to know what to say…What exactly _did_ one say to a man who just lost a son?

Zach breathed deeply. "Well, Randall's supposed to recover…Tubes down his throat, bruised and battered, cast on one arm, broken ribs, and punctured lungs. He can't breathe on his own right now, but he's stable…" Zach sighed and leaned forward to rest his head on two elbows. The kind nurse kept a hand on his shoulder, letting him take his time. Mike sat down on Zach's other side and wisely said nothing to allow the poor guy to continue. "I knew he'd been through hell in the Human World; even got shot at a couple of times. But to see _that…_ The doctors saved him; saved one of my boys…"

"I'm really sorry, Zach." Mike said to the scientist. "We—uh—we all heard about Samuel, too. A lot of monsters liked him. One of the nicest, most trustworthy guys I know! And everyone's real worried about Randall and Rex."

"You're from the factory, then. Both of my sons have made good names for themselves over there. It's good to know they have friends thinking of them." Zach sat up straight and nodded at the nurse, saying he was ready. "OK…I should find my grandson. He still doesn't know."

"Want some company?"

"No, thanks. But thank you for your time. Let everyone at that factory know that everything will be alright. Somehow…"

So the little furry nurse resumed leading Zach away, and both waved goodbye to Mike Wazowski. The green cyclops was a bit down-heartened by the encounter. "Poor guy…losing his son, and now having to explain it all to his grandson. Hope the kid will be OK…"

…

The nurse escorted Zachariah to the children's ward of the hospital. At the far end of the corridor were Bernard and the bug-like Social Worker, still waiting. "Zachariah! You're here," Bernard hobbled over on a crutch. He could see how drained the man was, and put an arm around his shoulders to guide him towards the bench.

Zach nodded meekly. "How's Rex?"

"Well enough. He's even good to be discharged, but obviously that can't be done right now."

The Social Worker adjusted her papers. "Dr. Boggs, it's nice to meet you. Though I am sorry to meet under these circumstances," She readied to explain the details of what was going to happen to Rex, when Becca and Naomi joined the group, coming out of the boy's room after having played a long round of 'I Spy.' The Social Worker asked to speak to Zach someplace more private, but he assured her that the others could stay. His sons' friends were good monsters and he trusted them completely. "Alright," the Worker agreed and went on. "Your grandson is still unaware of his father's passing. As the closet direct relative—"

"I'll tell him." Zach announced without even looking up. "Thank you all for looking after him, but this is something I should do alone."

Naomi bit her lip. "You sure you don't want anyone else in there?"

Zachariah nodded, stood up, and walked with much determination towards the door. The second it opened, an excited exclamation from Rex could be heard, "Grandpa! What are you doing here? There was a big bus crash yesterday. A lot of monsters got hurt; even Dad, and Uncle Randy and Miss Becca…"

The door shut behind Zach.

The Social Worker stepped away to dial her phone; she still had the task of trying to locate Rex's mother. (Personally, the gang didn't think it would be a successful endeavor.) While the regular staff of the hospital passed by all around, the others heard muffled sounds through the door; it all began with quiet, emotional talking. No words would be heard; just the tone of voice used as Zach spoke. Then there came bouts of silence with only Rex's voice piping up once in a while. Maybe he was questioning what his grandfather was telling him…Bernard looked visibly shaken-up as Naomi and Becca exchanged worried glances. Though they couldn't hear clearly, Zach sounded very unlike the calm, serious astrophysicist they remembered. When they all heard Rex begin to cry, Naomi leaned into Bernard for a comforting hug, wishing the last twenty-four hours had never happened.

At this point, Becca decided she couldn't handle this mentally draining episode much longer. Zach and Rex probably needed space right now, so she made up her mind to retreat downstairs when the chance arose.

…

That same floating sensation from before…

He felt lighter than air. It was a bit weird, but at least the pain from earlier wasn't present. And he felt strangely calm…as if nothing in the world would break this perfect spell of peace…Wait a second, what was happening?

 _Oh no, not this again_ …was Randall's first thought. The dark and calm atmosphere melted away suddenly, and he found himself standing in some unfamiliar hospital wing. Monsters wearing white coats and name badges on lanyards strolled about the hall. Some were in a greater hurry then others. But as he stood in place, watching the passersby, he came to realize that nobody seemed to see him. The hospital staff just kept on walking, slithering, or hovering by. Randall moved out of their way out of instinct, but had a feeling that they would not have bumped into him anyway. Still, he didn't want to find out if that was true.

"Great. Now where am I?" The words were rational, but inside, there was a mild panic brewing. What was going on? He pressed his back against a wall to pull at his fronds. "C'mon, Randy…think, _think_ …what was the last thing you remembered?"

Memories of the crash came flooding back again. There had been a tire screech, shattering glass, the pounding of metal on metal…monsters yelling in fear and pain. Some of the voices had belonged to Rex and Becca. But what about Sam? Most of the crash was pretty hazy…Randall wondered how long he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. After the crash, he remembered being in a hallway and wandering around a waiting room or something…

 _Ugh…how long ago was that? Was that even real?_

 _Of course it was real! It was some kind of trippy out-of-body experience! How do you explain this?_ His conscious answered, referring to the situation he was in right now.

Then the image of the waiting room full of injured monsters returned. So many of them…one of them being Sam standing confusedly and oblivious to his own crushed-beyond-repair bones. The memory of his own brother looking like that made Randall want to throw up. It sent him into denial. "No, no, no, that couldn't have happened. Could it?"

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he began wandering the hospital corridors, unsure where to go. Passing monsters still didn't seem to see him. It was weird…he looked down at his body to see what sort of shape he was in. But there wasn't a scratch on him! Not even the old gator bites and gunshot wounds from the Human World. So he wasn't dead…just in a coma or something? That was the only reasonable explanation while trying to comprehend it all.

"What about Rex? He's just a kid! And Becca, I—she's real important." He stopped himself from what he was about to say and focused on the mission: find the others! No matter what. He had to know for sure what had happened to them.

Several wards later, he found his friends quite by chance. Or maybe it was this out-of-body experience that was helping. He seemed able to move faster like this. Bernard and Naomi sat on a bench in the hall, right across from the door to a patient's room. They both looked exhausted and grieved. Naomi was quietly crying and hiding her face, lest anyone see her eye makeup run off, while Bernard stroked her hair to give a shred of comfort. Becca was there, too, sitting in a wheelchair with lots of stitched-up lacerations on her limbs and bandages wrapped around her torso. She was bruised up badly, too, but nothing life-threatening. Yet the way she sat with crossed arms and a stern face said otherwise; she only made that face when deeply troubled. The bus accident couldn't really have been that bad, could it?

Randall ran up to them for answers. "Guys! Where are—oh, right. I'm not really here. How annoying…" He tried to be all ghost-like and listen for clues, but no one was saying anything. His friends just sat there silently, too tired and distraught to speak. He gave up after a short time, his patience limited. "Don't worry. This'll all be over soon. I hope."

He studied Becca's stare—as glad as he was to see she had survived, he had to focus—and noticed the stare was aimed at the patient's door across the hall. Randall followed her gaze unsure if he wanted to go in there. Yet he already had a feeling he knew what to expect.

The door was closed—Randall was hesitant to reach for the handle. If this was some weird ghost-like state he was in, would his hand go right _through_? No. He didn't want to know…Peering through the little glass window, he saw his nephew sitting upright in the hospital bed with only minor injuries. Good. At least that was something to be glad about. Beside the boy was Zachariah Boggs, keeping two arms around his grandson while talking softly. "Dad…" Randall whispered. The expressions on both of their faces was hard to describe: stunned, mostly, and Rex seemed to be having trouble talking, for he was taking short, gasping breaths between bouts of crying. What Randall witnessed was unmistakable grief.

Randall staggered back. "So it's true. Sam didn't make it." The words were spoken aloud, despite no one able to hear them. So that vision of his brother with the crushed bones had been real. Randall turned to his friends, desperate to talk to someone. _Anyone!_ Despite shouting in their faces, none of them batted an eye. He tried calling out aimlessly, "Suzie! Suzie, if you're around, answer me right this _minute_!"

But the girl didn't appear. Was she even around? Too impatient to wait, he began running soundlessly back to the emergency ward. Perhaps she was there. Maybe he could find a way to end this ghost-like state, somehow. "Where are those doctors keeping me?" Randall wondered, dreading the idea of searching for _himself_ lying in a room somewhwere. "My brother is gone, my father lost a son, my nephew is practically orphaned—I have to live."

…

Meanwhile, Mike finally found the emergency wing, after taking several wrong turns in the maze of starch-white corridors. The nurses there were very nice and understood that he wanted to visit his friend, despite that friend being in a coma right now. So Mike was led to the wing where many seriously-injured or ill patients were staying. He thanked the nurses as they led him to the correct room—what good service!—and headed inside. (The rooms here did not have doors on hinges; just wide, open entrances so as to better allow teams of doctors to get to the serious-state patients as fast as possible.) The nurse told Mike to take all the time he needed, and mentioned that other visitors may pop in at some point.

The sight of Randall lying there, with all those injuries, a breathing mask over his face, and tubes sticking out of his torso, was very disturbing. Mike had never seen anything like it and stepped closer to have a look at all the equipment. "Geez…the accident really did a number on you, didn't it?" He remembered long-ago college days and how their friendship had ended after Randall began hanging out with the wrong crowd. Now the old Randall he first met had somewhat resurfaced, and now _this_ happens? It didn't seem fair.

Mike had heard that talking to comatose patients was a good practice, so it couldn't hurt to try. Weather Randall could hear or not was a mystery. "Well, you'll be glad to hear your nephew is OK. Your father's here, too. I even ran into him and thought he was you for a second. I think some serious talk is going on up there…Rex should be getting the news right about now." Mike sighed sadly, knowing the heavy task Zachariah had to undertake. "I can't believe Sam didn't make it…"

"Wazowski?" came a female voice from the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

Mike spun to see Rebecca McKeen, bandaged, bruised, and stitched-up, in a wheelchair with the same nurse ushering her in. The nurse smiled kindly before leaving them alone to talk.

"Sulley heard about Sam; the whole factory's been asking about the crash." Mike explained as McKeen came over to Randall's bedside. "It looks like I came at precisely the wrong time; ran into Zachariah in the lobby."

"He's telling Rex about it now. I'm not even sure what's going to happen to the poor kid. It was starting to sound pretty bad up there, so I thought I'd come see him," she nodded at Randall. A hundred thoughts ran through her head. Randall; this one monster, lying here in a coma, had saved her life several times both physically and mentally. He probably didn't even realized how often he was there for her. Not to mention the rest of their ragtag gang. Then she thought of Suzie…her sister had died so suddenly and unexpectedly…Randall was now in a similar situation, having lost a sibling. After all he'd done for her, maybe she could finally begin to return the favor.

Becca didn't want to discuss these personal feelings with Mike Wazowski—nice guy, but way too chatty. So she and Mike discussed the situation upstairs. Both knew that Sam hardly ever mentioned his ex-wife; they doubted she would be the one to take care of Rex. The boy would be a lot better off with his grandfather…

There was no indication whatsoever that Randall was indeed listening to every word spoken.

His spirit-like, unseen self was in the room. It freaked him out upon seeing his physical-self attached to all those tubes and machines…recovering from the accident was sure to be a painful nightmare. He walked around the room, listening to the conversation to get all the answers needed to piece together what was going on in this hospital. "Don't worry, guys. I'm not going anywhere just yet. The sooner I wake up, the sooner I can help."

Becca was sitting so close to the bed that she'd propped her elbows on the edge. Randall could tell she was alleviating the pain of her own broken ribs. But her expression was hard to read, as always. Her hands rested flat; without thinking, he reached over to hold one—while his physical-self lay motionless—but when he touched her hand ever so lightly, she made no sign of noticing. Being out of his own body sure felt odd; that same lighter-then-air feeling was still present and likely wouldn't go away until this was over. "I wonder if this is how Suzie feels?" he wondered, pulling his hand back. "Maybe it's different with her. I'm only stuck inbetween."

Suddenly there was an eerie presence in the room. Being able to see Suzie was one thing. He'd even gotten good at sensing when she was near. But in this bizarre state the feeling was heightened immensely.

Randall stood straight as a rail. Whoever had popped in was right behind him. And it wasn't Suzie.

He turned around fast. Samuel was standing in the doorway—literally looking like he'd been crushed by a truck. His grey scales were basically one massive bruise, while his body was contorted out of shape. There were visible breaks to both arms and all four legs, as well as large crushing blows to his torso. The sleeve tattoo on his left arm was all distorted because it was twisted the wrong way. Even his tail had some dislocation to it. Half of Sam's face was caved in…the figure seemed completely unaware of all of this. Sam crossed his arms anxiously. The same look from before could be read in his eyes: pure, utter confusion. As if he couldn't figure out where he was or what was going on.

The sight disturbed Randall so much that he stumbled backwards. The monster didn't even look like his brother anymore.

Sam, broken beyond repair, blinked at the physical Randall lying in the hospital bed, then turned to the other, perfectly uninjured Randall standing beside Becca and Mike. The brothers stared at one another, both shocked and confused by it all. Then Randall blinked.

The vision of Sam disappeared.

"Oh no…First Suzie and now my own brother…I don't know if I can handle another haunting. Especially now," He turned to face his other self and hoped he would wake up soon. Becca and Mike had been talking this entire time. They had no idea that unseen monsters were around them.

Randall tried to stay calm. He paced around for a while, expecting the vision to appear again, but it didn't. _Thank goodness…_ He sat on the edge of his own hospital bed, far too uneasy to be alone. Becca was currently telling of tales from the Human World; of times when the gang only had to focus on surviving out in the wilderness. Mike was listening raptly. Hearing about the gang's adventures would help take their minds off Rex and the others, if only for a while.

Randall stayed near to listen. It was awkward, being this close and only able to eavesdrop. He didn't want to admit it…but he was scared. Being haunted and in a coma at the same time would do that to any monster. Staying near his friends would make this whole experience a bit less frightening.

 **Oh boy, that was sad to write. :( This whole situation is kind of parallel to Suzie's death in HW: An Adventure. I've been planning this long sequel for ages and ages, and now that I've finally come to Sam's untimely death, I almost can't believe it myself! Feel free to review! The next part is already underway.**


	26. Fates

**OMG I must've re-written this three or four times by now. I had to make it perfect for your enjoyment! We have Randall in an out-of-body experience, observing his distraught nephew, his friends wanting to be of more help, and even the appearance of Rex's estranged mother. Samuel is ever fearful, and asks an incredible favor from his brother, which Randall is very reluctant to take on. I'm super-happy with this dramatic chapter, so read on, readers, and enjoy!**

Chapter Twenty-Five: Fates

Randall was at a loss as to what to do. He was here, and yet not here; all he could do was wander and wait. The 'real' him was still lying in the starch-white hospital room and didn't look like he would be waking up anytime soon. It had been two days since that first visit from Mike Wazowski. Randall was surprised the guy had come in the first place. Perhaps their old friendship wasn't so lost after all. An even greater shock was when Wazowski came again, but this time with Fungus and even Sullivan in tow. The trio had visited—despite him being unconscious—to bring words of condolence from the entire factory, and a humongous card signed by many of them. (The thing was completely covered with written messages.) The unseen Randall listened quietly during their visit. His entire being was very surprised. Had he truly reformed so much that other monsters were concerned and thinking of him and his family's situation?

Randall felt undeserving of it. Not long after the trio's departure, he began arguing with himself. _Why would anyone make a_ card _for this?Sam's gone…words and a card won't help at all._ He frowned at his physical body, lying there with all sorts of wires and tubes attached to it. The bandages were so numerous, and the cast on his lower left arm only added to it all. A lot of the bruises were black-and-blue by now. Randall turned away from it and poked his head through the doorway to watch Mike, Fungus and Sullivan walk off until they turned a corner out of sight. _Why did those three even come?_

 _Think about it._ _You've changed since returning from that godforsaken place, where you couldn't even_ try _to be better._ The familiar voice of his inner conscience pointed out. _Mike's even trying to be friends again. And you heard them yourself: the whole factory is devastated that Sam is—_

 _Don't you start!_ Randall wished he had someone else to vent to other then his own mind. _My brother is dead. Dead! I saw him standing right there…!_ He looked over at the other side of the room. The crushed and broken vision of Sam still burned fresh in his memory. It had been two days, but the image had not shown up again. The moment kept replaying over and over…Now that some time had passed, Randall had had time to build up an incredible feeling of guilt. _I have to apologize to him…I've been bothered by Suzie so much that I just wasn't thinking straight when I saw him show up! I didn't expect it right then and there! My brother is dead, and the first thing that comes to my mind is 'Not another ghost to deal with?' How heartless can I be?_

There had been much time to reflect. As this out-of-body experience persisted, the guilt only grew. Plus reality was hitting hard. His brother was gone. And all Randall could think about was himself and what he had to deal with. _Ugh…some reformation. I promised myself that I wouldn't go back to the old me! I can be better than that…Sam believed I could._

 _So wait for him to show up._ The conscience advised. _This is a big hospital. Better yet, walk around. Maybe he's hanging around someplace else._

That sounded like a plan. There wasn't much else to do, anyway. For the last two days, Randall had been eavesdropping on monsters; his friends, many doctors and nurses, and even Zachariah talking on the phone to random social workers and lawyers. Randall was worried, but knew his father to be clever and resourceful. Whatever was going to happen to Rex seemed to be in the works already. Despite Zach having lost a son, protecting his grandson had become a great task to focus on. It was distracting him from the grief.

So Randall set out on a casual stroll through the nearby wards. It was strange, this eerie experience of being unseen. And not in the invisible-camouflaged way he was used to…he felt lighter than air, felt no need for rest or sleep, and wasn't getting hungry or thirsty no matter how many hours went by. But he couldn't blink away to other places the way Suzie could. Maybe that was because he wasn't fully…well— _gone_.

The emergency ward served as home base. He frequently ran back there, for that was the room where his body waited. Maybe if he kept returning, a wake-up call would trigger or something. But nope…still no change. Randall wished Suzie would come back soon. His thoughts about Sam grew more distressed by the minute, and he desperately needed to find him. Or at least talk to someone about it all.

Randall thought for sure the girl would be walking around the hospital hallways, too. But for some reason, she was still missing. Maybe she was too traumatized herself by all this chaos. So Randall decided to go find Becca and hang around her for a while _. Suzie is sure to check up on her sister._ He realized. _Becca won't be in the hospital for much longer, though, so hopefully I can catch Suzie before then…Maybe even Sam._

Randall went up to pediatrics, and found the entire gang congregated in the waiting area. Bernard, Becca, and Naomi were all there, along with Bernard's family—Nick, Lucy, and Penny, who were all very miserable-looking. That really wasn't a surprise, under these tragic circumstances. Since this was the children's section of the hospital, the waiting area was colorfully painted, with a couple of sturdy toys lying around, and a tiny plastic playground for toddlers. Other families were here, playing with their kids to pass time. Since the gang was in an area that wasn't really private, they were seated over in the corner of the room. This topic was heavy-duty and not something for more sensitive ears to overhear. (One dragon-like kid kept breathing fire on the playset, and his parents kept hosing it down with a fire extinguisher. So that was a good distraction.)

It seemed the plan to trail Becca in order to find Suzie paid off. The younger McKeen sister was here, too.

Randall hurried up to the girl in relief. "There you are; where have you been the last few days?"

"Hi." She greeted quietly. "Nice to see you up and about. Well—sort of." They both turned to the large group of their friends and family. Everyone seemed to be in a deep discussion and spoke in whispers. The Brennens were all keeping quiet, while Zach was in the lead of whatever it was the group was meeting about. "They're talking about Rex…" Suzie explained to Randall. They inched as close as possible to the group. "I've been keeping tabs on it. No one seems to know what's going to happen to that poor boy."

Randall wasn't surprised. If Sam's ex-wife was exactly like he had described her, there was sure to be vagueness. Sitting close by, and using a wheelchair for the sake of broken ribs, was Becca. She was still bandaged up, but a bit less bruised now. He was glad to see she was slowly recovering from the accident. She definitely had more energy, for she was clearly agitated with Zachariah and struggled to keep her voice down.

"How the hell can no one know where she is?!" Becca whisper-yelled at Zach. "If the woman was married to Sam once, became your daughter-in-law, you ought to know where to find her, right?"

The two unseen monsters listened to the ranting for a while. Becca was mighty persistent at it. Randall turned to Suzie, "This brings back bad memories. When I finally rejoined the others in Louisiana and told them about your death, things were a lot worse. Becca didn't handle the news well at all."

"Worse, huh? Not too surprising. She got more protective over me as we got older." Suzie explained. "Always prone to direct her anger at someone. In this case, I guess it's your father." They listened in again on the conversation.

"...There must be some way to track her down. Don't you have any clues as to where she is, Zach?" Becca went on.

"I'm sorry, I don't," the older monster shook his head. "She never even tried to stay in contact with Sam and Rex…I only hope she doesn't cause trouble when we finally do find her. The social worker is trying everything she can to help us." Zach went on a brief summary of how sour the relationship between this woman and Sam had gradually become. For some reason, she had simply left, leaving him alone with a toddler-aged Rex and never looked back, becoming a spoiled, self-centered monster who didn't want anything to do with them anymore.

Naomi was reeling from the truth. "Geez, that bad, huh? Sam never said much about his ex. Judging from all that, I can see why."

Zach nodded sadly. "To tell the truth, I wish she weren't coming at all. But it's necessary to inform her of Sam's death—" Here, his voice cracked a little. "What kind of monsters would we be if we didn't at least tell her?" He had been holding his grief together well for the past two days, but with this new problem arising, all his emotions threatened to boil over.

Bernard put a kind hand on Zach's shoulder, suggesting, "Why not go back to Rex's room for a while? You both need all the support you can get. And don't worry; we can figure all of this out."

"Do you want to go check on Randall later?" Naomi added.

"Yes. Perhaps Rex can come next time…" Zach wondered. "Seeing his uncle will get at least put some part of his mind at ease. He had terrible nightmares about the bus crash last night…"

The whole group accompanied him into Rex's hospital room. The boy was still in a state of shock, not willing to accept what was going on, but was happy to see his grandfather along with all of the monsters who meant a lot to them.

Suzie and Randall hung back in the hallway. "Did I detect some negative vibes back there?" Suzie asked.

"Yep." Randall crossed every arm and leaned back on the wall. (He half-expected to go through it, but didn't. This out-of-body state sure was strange.) "Even if that woman _does_ bother to show up, the kid will likely go to Dad, instead."

He took a few steps into the room to view the scene of the entire gang with his father and nephew. Rex and Penny were happy to see each other. Meanwhile, the adults spoke quietly, offering words of reassurance that everything would be OK. Randall was glad of it. What did he do to deserve such good friends? Even Becca had softened her demeanor…it was all wonderful to see. Once realizing he was staring at her a bit too long, he turned back to Suzie. "I'm glad they're all helping them through this."

"Me, too." She smiled. "You'll get through it, too, once you wake up. Though I wish my sister would take it easier," Suzie observed Becca fidgeting uncomfortably in her wheelchair. "Those broken ribs would heal faster if she only rested more. She keeps sneaking out of that hospital bed to check on you down in emergency. Several times a day, in fact." Here, Randall shot her an extremely annoyed look. "What?! Just an observation." But he only blinked defiantly, leaving her exasperated. "Alright, alright, I'll stop…Well, since we can't really do much else around here, want to search the emergency ward again? That place is where Sam keeps popping up, but I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him, yet."

News of his brother filled Randall with hope. "What? Why didn't you say so before?"

"Great. I'll see you there!" The girl disappeared. But it wasn't like the usual blinking-away-instantly disappearing. This time, Randall saw a blur of royal blue. The best he could describe it was as a breath of wind. Perfectly soundless. But the sight didn't deter him from being annoyed. "Hey! That is not fair, Suzie!" He called for her to come back, since it he lacked the ability to move so fast, not being technically 'gone' himself. "Ugh…Fine. I'll walk. That'll give me time to think, anyway…"

During the trip down to the ground floor, he couldn't help but wonder how his friends were holding up, and if Becca really was visiting more often than the others. _It's not like I don't appreciate it, having visitors. It's just…awkward, maybe?_ He hated to admit it, but it was kind of nice, having monsters care about him enough to go sneaking out of their rooms. _Well, if she keeps it up, the others are sure to notice. Might get embarrassing for the both of us_ …The occasional teasing from Naomi was enough. The feelings he had towards Becca were still a bit conflicted, and he'd already decided not to act on them. Remembering the recent conversation with Sam about the topic played fresh in his mind…his brother had advised differently. Randall sighed. The reality that Sam would never be able to advise Rex in the future was hard to think about.

He made it down to emergency. It wasn't too busy around here; not as many monsters in scrubs and white lab coats were walking around today, so it was easier to avoid bumping into them. Nobody made an inkling of awareness that he was even there, but Randall still stepped out of their paths out of habit. (He didn't want to know if monsters could pass right through him, anyway.) As he neared the room where his physical body lay, he heard a familiar voice—actually two familiar voices. _No, it couldn't be…_ He quickened the pace.

It was Sam who was speaking. "…so you're the infamous Suzanne McKeen…"

"Couldn't you tell? I know Becca's never shown you a picture of me, but she and I look similar enough." Suzie replied.

There was no door on the wide doorway, so Randall carefully peered around the corner. Suzie sat serenely on the floor. Across from her and huddled up in a very distraught way against the wall was Sam. Still no less broken then before. All the breaks, crushes, and bruises on him were insurmountable. If Randall didn't know it was Sam, he wouldn't have recognized him. The way his distorted and crushed body appeared would make anyone want to retreat in horror; Randall had never seen anyone so injured in his life. But Sam was speaking normally, and moved without any physical signs of pain. That was good…until he accepted his own fate, there wouldn't be any healing. Randall swallowed and waited in the doorway to be noticed. He didn't feel much like interrupting.

Suzie was going on and on about little perks such as fast travel times that came with being…well…But she wasn't really helping the situation. She clued in on this quickly and kindly asked, "So how are you holding up, Dr. Boggs? Are you doing OK?"

"'Sam' is just fine. And no. I'm not…" Sam leaned his head back. "Has it been two days already?"

"Going on three."

He sighed gravely. "This is not how I imagined my week to end…"

Suzie tried to lift his spirits. "It's OK to be sad. I've been gone for almost a year and still can't always wrap my head around it."

"But you passed away from a traumatic head injury, correct?" Sam noted how normal and uninjured the girl looked. "How is it you aren't as—well—bashed up as when it happened?"

"It's been a long recovery, but I've healed up a lot since. Almost done, in fact. See?" She twisted around and brushed her fin-tipped feelers aside to show the caved-in dent on the back of her skull. That was the only sign of her fate left. "I'm sticking around for the sake of my sister. It's all tied to her. The more she and I accept that fact that I'm gone, the more I heal. Also, I just want to make sure she finds happiness again. Maybe I can eventually move on, too."

"No, I can't do that!" Sam sat up straight, shaking his head distraughtly. "What about my son? I can't just leave without knowing that—"

"You don't have to!" Suzie calmed. "Stick around as long as you want. Just don't let every monster see you. I've learned that one the hard way. Kind of a funny story, really. But I needed someone to talk to and someone to practice my joke skills on, so way back in springtime, I—oh, Randall!" She noticed him standing in the doorway and waved him in.

Randall and Samuel stared at one another, both with utter looks of pity. Both thought the same thing: Why was this happening? Neither wanted to believe it.

Suzie, ever the cheerful one, knew that this was a very sensitive time. Lowering the bar considerably, she said to Sam with much empathy and kindness, "Sam, I'm really, really sorry this happened to you…no one knows why these bad things happen, but it'll be OK. It may not seem like it now, but you'll see."

There wasn't much reaction from Sam. There was a slow inhale, a slow exhale, he blinked at his brother, whom he didn't expect to see, before turning his gaze to the floor. He fidgeted with his crushed arm; the sleeve tattoo was all distorted and twisted the wrong way. He began tracing the abstract patterns distractedly and didn't say a word. The reality of his new situation was so awful that reacting to it seemed like a waste of time.

Randall took action. "Hey, Suzie, could you leave us alone for a while?"

The girl nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'll go see what's going on with Zach and the others." She did the same weird vanishing act as before and disappeared in a fast blur of blue-and-gold scales to leave them to talk.

Sam was the most disturbed Randall had ever seen. The younger Boggs brother sat down on the floor beside him, unsure where to begin. For many minutes, they were silent. That is until Randall broke it with bluntness. "You look terrible."

"So do you." Sam returned. "Well… _that_ you." He nodded at the physical Randall lying in the hospital bed. The other one who was speaking to him looked perfectly healthy; even all the scars were gone. Sam guessed correctly that it was courtesy of the coma and ranted, "We were just taking the bus home! How does a simple thing like that turn into _this_?! I can't even remember the details…did a truck T-bone us?"

"Yes, it did. Try to calm down—"

"How do you expect me to stay calm? I—I'm…" Sam couldn't even say the word.

"Yeah, I know…" Randall put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Being all nice and caring wasn't really a specialty, but Sam needed it right now. "Dad and Rex are taking it pretty bad."

"Dad's here?" Sam lifted his head. "I've mostly been hanging around the emergency ward this whole time. I'm not ready to go see them just yet."

"You don't have to do that, or even move on, or whatever it is we're supposed to do, until you're ready. And by the look of you, that could be a while. There's a lot more at stake here then when Suzie died." Randall explained. "She's been lingering around all year. Ever since the gang and I got 'unbanished', that girl just won't rest until her sister recovers."

Sam was confused "Huh? Suzie's been lingering—but how would you know…?" Then he pieced it all together. "Oh, Randall, don't tell me she's been _haunting_ you all this time? Does that mean you see ghosts?"

"Well—sort of, I guess. It's complicated." He briefly explained how Suzie was only visible to him. (But not telling that Rex was able to see her, too. That would be way too much for Sam to handle right now.) "…and Bernard and Naomi both caught a glimpse once, but they both dismissed it—nightmares, hallucinations, you know—I convinced them they had been seeing things."

"Huh. This explains why you talk to yourself so much." Sam turned to look over at the 'real' Randall in the hospital bed. All the tubes and machines hooked up to him were a sore sight to see. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Um…maybe? Suzie seems to think I'll be fine. She's got somewhat of a sixth sense for danger, but it's questionable." The brothers were quiet for a time while Sam processed many thoughts. Randall took this as a cue to say something. Anything! The fact that Rex's future was still unknown was disconcerting, so he tentatively said, "Rex is doing great, though. I've overheard Bernard talking to Dad, and the Brennens are going to let them both stay at their place until everything's sorted out. The social worker is trying to locate your ex-wife…"

"Oh no…" Sam sighed at the mere mention. "I was hoping they wouldn't bother finding her…I didn't even mention her in my will."

"You wrote a will already?" _Typical Sam, always prepared for anything._ "I know you don't like talking about her, but she has the right to at least know that you're…well…" Randall put a hand on his brother's broken shoulder, since Sam gave an odd shudder of emotion. "Rex is her son, too."

"Yeah, of course…But that doesn't mean that's a good thing! The courts deemed her an unfit parent, and I got everything in the divorce. The very day it was settled, she packed up and left us without a goodbye."

"Rex was only two, right?" Randall asked. "What happened, anyway?"

Sam's many broken and crushed bones seemed to groan along with the great sigh he let out. There was no point avoiding the topic, now. "She didn't want the same life I wanted. There's an age difference; she was only eighteen when we got married; Rex came along that same year. I thought she would slow down the party-hard lifestyle, but nope! If anything, having him only made her want to go out even more. Such ludicrous, irresponsible behavior…" he said with much resentment. "She practically ignored me and our son and was sometimes out partying all night; couldn't even hold down a job. The final straw came when she started cheating on me—don't give me that look, Randy. I know for a fact that Rex is mine; I took a test. And he inherited the camouflage gene, after all."

Finally hearing the story of his brother's heartbreak was rough. "Geez, that's harsh. I never realized it was that bad."

"Thanks…" Sam took it as sympathy. "Anyway, I have no idea where she went. There was no later contact, so Rex only knows her through photos." He set some things straight. "Randall, I may have made a big mistake with who I married, but I don't regret having my son one bit. If she turns up to try and take him away…well, if you're in a coma right now, what if she uses the opportunity to take Rex and blackmail Dad—"

"Hey, Dad'll never let that happen. He's too smart to be manipulated." Randall gazed at Sam's intense injuries and wondered if learning of Rex's fate would be all that it would take to heal him. "The kid'll grow up just fine in the countryside."

Sam gave an odd look. One that was along the lines of uncertainty. "Actually…"

"You did name Dad guardian, right?"

"Well…yes and no…" Sam admitted reluctantly. "I made some recent changes to my will. You're the preferred guardian, and Dad's the official one in writing so far…I was going to talk to you about it."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Randall was very surprised. "You didn't even bother asking me?"

"I was _going_ to ask you! But _this_ happened!" Sam waved a hand in a circular motion, gesturing to himself, his brother, and the physical brother lying in the hospital bed. He leaned back on the wall again, defeated, and curled up his dislocated tail. "You see, when you came back from the Human World and started cleaning up your act, I thought that maybe Rex would have a less complicated future, should anything happen to me. Only if you agreed, of course. So the official guardian is still Dad…I hoped you would consider it if you gave it some thought…Guess nothing'll go as planned, now. I only wanted to choose what was best for Rex."

"And picking me as a guardian is the best thing? Why?" Randall would normally be mad about a decision as big as this not being told to him, but the complete surprise of it all was still in effect. "What in the world would possess you to pick _me_? I'm not exactly the right type of monster—"

"Listen, it's complicated. You've been back home for months, and I've been thinking about it ever since summertime. I really think it would be the best thing for my son—"

"No." Randall flat-out protested. "Dad's the better choice here. He's raised kids before! And when Mom died, he did it on his own—I didn't turn out so great, but still—he's more well-off, and less of a jerk then me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Randall. You've changed since returning and I don't think you realize how much." Sam said in a very calm way. The pewter grey lizard wasn't one to fib and was always truthful. There was nothing but pure honesty in his voice.

The way the words were stated made Randall go very quiet. If Sam thought that way, maybe he really had reformed more then he thought. "OK, so…it's not official in your will." He finally said, determined not to agree to anything, but curious to hear the reasons. "But _why_ do you want me to take guardianship?"

"Well, the time to talk to you about it never really came up…" Sam sat up a little straighter as he began to explain…

…

Zachariah was spending every waking moment with Rex. Becca didn't want to interfere too much, for many social workers had been coming and going along the hallways. She always came to Rex's room afterwards, for Zach liked having someone to talk to, and this kept her well-informed of what was going on.

To her surprise, a giant card arrived that day. It was brought in by Mr. Sullivan, signed by nearly every single monster she coached in the scare training classes. Weird. Despite her temper, tough demeanor, and no-nonsense personality, the entire factory was worried about her and wished her well. Sullivan mentioned that one had been delivered to Randall, too. During the big blue-furred monster's visit, the conversation led to the factory's upgrades. "I wonder how those renovations are holding up without him…" Becca said aloud.

"Fungus is doing his best to keep things rolling, but it's difficult." Sullivan explained. "The new station design is pretty complicated. It's coming along kind of slow right now."

"Well, don't even think about bothering Randall with techno problems when he wakes up! Apart from healing, he'll have enough on his plate to handle." She said that last part a bit sadly.

Sullivan nodded. Samuel's death resonated loud within the community of Monsters, Inc. "We're all going to miss Sam, too."

Other visitors from the factory included Mike Wazowski, and a few Scarers that Becca knew from her coaching classes. She wasn't especially close to any of them, but it was cool having visitors. It kept the hospital stay from being boring. The Brennens were the most frequent ones, of course, and she always begged Bernard to stay as long as he could. The older monster was a surrogate father of sorts, and Naomi had been like a sister (albeit a very annoying sister) ever since Suzie died…Becca longed to get out of this place as soon as possible. Hospitals were not fun…

Three days after Sullivan's card delivery, a doctor said she would be discharged and sent home that very evening Despite the broken ribs, she wasn't injured enough to stay here, and all she really needed was plenty of rest to heal. She figured out how to best move with the least amount of pain, foregoing the wheelchair in the process, and used the freedom to sneak down to emergency as often as she could. Randall still hadn't woken up. It had been a total of five days since the accident, and the fact that he still lay unconscious was distressing. She was getting very worried about him.

At least her getting out of this hospital was good news. But something happened that afternoon that added more problems to Rex's situation.

When Bernard and Naomi showed up for their daily visit, Becca didn't waste a moment to tell them. "Finally, you guys are here!" She was sitting up on top on the bedcovers when they came in. She gingerly stood, trying to keep her torso as straight as possible, to take her friends out into the hall.

"Careful, you're still really bruised up," Naomi advised as Becca led them off. "Not so fast! What's going on? Is Randall awake?"

"No. This is something on the shady side. C'mon, I'll explain on the way." As an afterthought, she added, "But I will say that Randall doesn't have as many machines attached to him. The docs did another surgery, and his lungs are in much better shape. As in not full of holes."

Bernard used his crutch to walk as fast as he could. "Oh, good…For a while, I was afraid he wasn't going to make it."

"He will. He's always been a fighter."

They turned a corner to where Rex's room was, and stopped in their tracks. At the far end of the hall was Zach standing with the same skinny, stick-insect social worker from before, along with a newcomer they didn't recognize. Clearly they were discussing something terribly important, judging by the assorted frowns, crossed arms, and eye rolls. Not to mention Zach's defensive posture.

"Ugh. They're still talking…" Becca groaned. "I've been checking down this hall all afternoon; Zach hasn't been able to get away to tell me what's going on."

The unknown monster, a woman, may be a stranger, but Bernard took one guess as to who she was. This was undoubtedly Rex's mother. She was reptilian and slender, with a very long tail, a snout-like face, two arms and two legs—one foot was tapping with great impatient on the floor. There were large, impressive frills around her neck, kind of like a frilled lizard, that rested on her shoulders right now, but threatened to pop up the longer the tense discussion with Zach went on. Her eyes were dark and caked in colorful makeup. She carried a sequin-covered handbag. Her scales were bright orange like her son's. All in all, she would have been an attractive monster, if not so cheap-looking.

Since the Social Worker was holding the mini-meeting a little ways from Rex's room, the friends were able to slip inside without any trouble. Zach saw them and waved briefly with a 'don't worry, this'll be over soon' kind of look. Or maybe it was more along the lines of 'please help me.'

Rex's injuries were largely healed by now. A few of the bigger bruises remained, but he was in no discomfort whatsoever. The boy lay on his back on top of the bed in a heap of pillows, sadness and boredom. He perked up from the cube puzzle he was playing with as the gang entered.

"Hello, little man. How are you doing?" Bernard asked, trying to be sensitive. The boy forced a smile that lasted all of one second.

"We thought you could use some company. Have you heard from them, yet?" Becca nodded at the doorway, referring to Zach and the Social Worker.

"Nah. They've been talking for a real long time…"

"Who's that woman out there with Zach and bug-lady?" Naomi asked. The others raised their brows at her. Hadn't she guessed it already? Upon seeing their looks, she finally clued in. "Hold on…Is that your mother, Rex?"

"I guess. Dad showed me photos of her before…" he explained. "She came in to say 'hi' a while ago. Her name's Karissa."

Naomi and Bernard moved to the doorway to peek out at the ensuing conversation. They couldn't hear anything being said, but the woman was arguing with Zach in whispers, while the Social Worker acted as mediator. "Huh…" Bernard observed. "She's a lot younger than I expected."

Naomi whispered, "Did Sam ever mention why she left him?"

Over at Rex's bedside, Becca reassured the boy. "Don't worry. I'm sure Zach will make everything alright again."

"'Alright again?' Dad is gone! What if my mom takes me away? What if Grandpa can't fix everything?" Rex cried out. One tear rolled down his orange face, which Becca—in a rare act of kindness—wiped away to try and comfort him. "I don't want to go with her; I don't even know her! And she never wanted me, anyway…"

Bernard came over with sympathy, telling Rex words of reassurance that even though Sam was gone, they would all make sure nothing else bad would happen. Naomi was fighting to keep it together, too, but stayed where she was. She wanted to keep spying on the far-away conversation at the end of the hall. Zach appeared to be holding his ground in the argument while the Social Worker grew weary of it all. Meanwhile the mystery woman, Rex's mother, seemed angry still, but her body language wasn't as harsh, now. But the woman gave no sign of sympathy or even seemed upset about her son's dire circumstance. It was very surprising to Naomi. "She looks more annoyed then anything," she observed. "How awful…I would think most monsters would care a little more."

Bernard waved for her to come over; Rex was babbling on about how scared he was, and needed them all. "Naomi, come back in here. We shouldn't interfere with what's going on out there."

"But—"

"Zach told us to leave it to him, remember?" Bernard reminded gently. "We don't know anything about this woman, but he does. She was married to Sam, after all. If things get real bad, maybe we can step in to help, somehow."

"But I don't see what we can do!" Naomi groaned, pacing around and playing with her hair, which was a tangled lavender mess due to lack of sleep. "Ugh! I just feel so—so—helpless!"

"Everyone chill out and breathe!" Becca ordered. They all went silent. She shifted in her seat with discomfort; partly from the broken ribs, partly from feeling very helpless herself. (Of course she wouldn't say so.) "Let's just sit back and let Zach do his thing. She could be as tricky and manipulative as Randall—or the way he _used_ to be, anyway. And if she does end up causing trouble, leave her to me and I'll teach her a thing or two!" She smacked one fist into the opposite hand for emphasis.

Rex dried his eyes. He was a clever kid and understood the seriousness of it. To all three of them, he pleaded, "Just don't let her take me away."

Bernard gave the boy a big bear hug. It couldn't have been a better move. "We wouldn't dream of it, Rex."

…

The talk with Sam was long. It must've carried on for hours. Maybe even days. But neither of the brothers experienced fatigue, thirst from talking so long, or even stiffness from sitting on the floor. Randall found it quite strange. But the subject of Sam wanting him to become a guardian was even stranger. The two of them hadn't seen much of Suzie. They didn't even leave the emergency ward; only walked through its halls, observing patients while they talked. There was so much to discuss that the matter kept circling. The room where Randall's physical self lay still served as home base; by this time, doctors had done a second surgery and less monitors were in use, now. The brothers were almost too absorbed in their discussion to even notice.

"It's just a lot to think about..." Randall said, not for the first time.

"We've been over it several times." Sam replied. "The downside is Dad is still the official guardian. This is the first time I've had a chance to talk to you about it, so if you don't want it, I—I guess that's fine. But if my ex is here and being her selfish and entitled self, I doubt Dad will be able to handle her. You have no idea how much she changed after Rex was born. She's a blackmailer, Randall! She doesn't give a fig for me, or my son!"

Sam suddenly disappeared in a whirl of grey and materialized in the middle of the room. His broken body began pacing while he rubbed the back of his head anxiously. "This is bad…and all I can do is sit back and watch it all happen!"

The long discussion had been difficult. Although Randall sympathized, he was very reluctant to agree to his brother's wishes. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that I'm the best monster to do this."

"Why not? I've explained about Dad and why—"

"Hey, guys! Guess what?" Suzie suddenly appeared. "Becca is being discharged tonight! And Sam, you don't have to worry about a thing. I've been listening in on your wife and father. He's really doing his best to keep her away; she wants to have her 'poor baby' come live with her, but Zach is being firm; Rex is staying with him."

"Good. But that's not going to last…" Sam scowled at the outlook. "Just you wait, Suzie. She'll try something. I just know it!"

Suzie, having been a ghost for some time now, had forgotten how sudden this was for Sam, and immediately became more sensitive. She perched on top of a cabinet while Sam expressed every fear in his heart. Words just spilled out without stop. The venting was directed to both her and his brother, but too many thoughts ran through Randall's head for him to pay much attention.

Randall's subtle frown went unnoticed. He carefully weighed the choices back and forth, for a huge decision had to made…it meant convincing Zach to relinquish custody, and their relationship was still on the rocky side as it was. Not to mention dealing with Sam's ex, and a five-year-old who had just lost a father. All the renovations at the factory seemed obsolete in comparison. This was far more important.

 _Make it up to your brother and do this!_ _You'll never find true forgiveness or even forgive yourself if you don't._ The inner conscience screamed loudly. _Do the right thing!_

That was the final push he needed.

Looking at his brother and Suzie, Randall stood. "I'll do it." They both stared at him and he nodded with determination. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Sam."

Sam glanced at the physical Randall lying in the hospital bed. Many of the tubes attached to him had been removed, but he was still in very bad shape. "Are you sure? I mean, look at you! And Karissa isn't the easiest monster to deal with. She can be very manipulative."

"So can I." Was the smirked answer. In the background, Suzie beamed proudly.

Then, without warning, came a sickening spinning sensation. Randall gasped with surprise as a dizziness overcame him and the beeping sound of the room's medical machines grew muffled and faint. Colors blurred together in a haze. Sam and Suzie faded away as the room slowly went black…

Then he opened his eyes…Overhead was a clean hospital ceiling with blinding white lights. He felt very dazed, tired, and not fully there, mentally; as if he'd just woken up from a long sleep. There was excruciating pain deep in his chest, making it hard to breathe. And also pain in his lower left arm… _Ugh. What's happening?_ Several seconds had passed by the time it hit him: he was awake for real. But far too groggy to move or even speak—tubes were still down his throat, and a breathing mask was over his face, after all. He forced his eyes to blink open further in a feeble effort to look around. It was a struggle to even do that, let alone turn his head. He hoped against hope that he wasn't alone…

Suzie was still sitting up there on the cabinet. She and another presence were gazing at a spot on the other side of the room, both with alarmed looks on their faces. She was the first to notice Randall's eyes flutter open. Then Sam saw, too, and hurried over to the side of the bed. Good…they were still there. Any bit of help would be of some peace of mind, for even in his injured, foggy state of mind, Randall felt a tremendous responsibility weighing down upon him like a ton of bricks.

 **Guess what? Only 9 more chapters and an epilogue to go! So stayed tuned for more! :)**


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